


Troubled Hues, Soft Shapes (Aobajousai Edition)

by RainbowPools



Series: Troubled Hues, Soft Shapes [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Hanamaki Takahiro, Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha Kindaichi Yuutarou, Alpha Kyoutani Kentarou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aobajousai Pack, Aobajousai Volleyball Club - Freeform, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Omega Kunimi Akira, Omega Matsukawa Issei, Omega Oikawa Tooru, Omega Verse, Omega Yahaba Shigeru, Romance, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowPools/pseuds/RainbowPools
Summary: As the seasons change, so do they.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Troubled Hues, Soft Shapes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012101
Comments: 7
Kudos: 181





	1. MatsuHana, Fever Fog, Heat Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Headcanon: Hanamaki’s sweet coffee scent often gets him mistaken for an omega, and he has a habit of using that to his advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there :)  
> Just wanted to familiarize you with a few terms I use.  
> Scent puff: When an alpha or omega expels a large amount of pheromones, making a strong wave of their scent.  
> Intoxication: A state in which an individual is rendered unable to function clearly due to another’s scent.  
>  **Warning:** Sexual harassment. It’s not explicit or assault, but it’s there so watch out.  
> Hope you enjoy. :)

Matsukawa understood, by the blatant cramps he had that morning, that his heat was coming on quite soon. Often his preheat cramps would betokened his heat two to three days before it actually came about. So, it was with great shock, and more or less irritation, that he noticed a knot pull in his stomach, and the scent of honey waft up into the air. His landing was shaky, breaths more labored than they should have been. He had only half succeeded in blocking Kunimi’s spike, and that should’ve been an easy one. Kunimi’s shadowy eyes floated up his body in something that could just _almost_ be considered concern. Oikawa was blowing Coach’s whistle to pause the three-on-three, and Kindaichi was already approaching Matsukawa with a towel. Heavy breathing filled the air as the other players slowed to a stop. Matsukawa’s head spun, the volleyball court twirling in his vision. His chest loosened in a huff of frustrated air. His heats were always so intense. And by god, what a time for it to come early. Hanamaki wasn’t there, which was a fact that held more distress than Matsukawa cared to acknowledge. Hanamaki had caught a fever that morning, and as much as Matsukawa had wanted to stay home and mother him, missing another day of class for anything other than heat would have him failing his course. It wasn’t until Oikawa clasped his arms around his waist from behind, and Iwaizumi shouted at him to “hold up Matsukawa,” that he realized he was heading toward the gym’s exit, thoughts hazy with desire to be with an alpha, _his_ alpha. 

“Easy Mattsun, it’s okay,” Oikawa cooed, keeping a tight hold of Matsukawa’s waist. The latter’s dark gaze swept the room. Iwaizumi was ambling in his direction, Yahaba not far behind. Kunimi matched Kyotani’s indifference, and Matsukawa wondered briefly how he always managed to ignore that prominent omega need to just care for others. 

“Hey, you functioning okay?” Iwaizumi was in front of him, then he was raising up on his toes and then, _ah.._ His nose grazed Matsukawa’s scent gland, sending his brain into an even cloudier state of incoherency, Iwaizumi’s puffing lavender scent exacerbating his fog. Iwaizumi may not have been _his_ alpha, but he was an alpha nevertheless. 

“Careful Iwa,” Oikawa giggled, brushing a hand through Matsukawa’s messy curls, “You’ll kill him if you keep that up.” He glanced to Matsukawa, “You wanna leave practice early? You need to be with Maki, don’t you?” 

“If it’s not a problem,” Matsukawa said, softly, ducking his head. 

“Certainly not,” Oikawa shook his head as if the very suggestion was silly, “Just let Iwa drive you back to your apartment. It’s late, and it’s already hard enough to function in heat. Plus, I don’t want any other alphas getting any ideas.” He made air quotes on his last words. Matsukawa nodded, a light smile brightening his newly exhausted features. 

“Take care of yourself now,” Yahaba called as Matsukawa followed Iwaizumi from the gym, “Drink plenty of water and don’t ignore your desires.” 

“Right,” Matsukawa spared him a look over his shoulder, then he and Iwaizumi were out the door. The late evening air calmed him a little, as did Iwaizumi’s lingering scent of lavender. He felt relatively guilty. Oikawa was the only one of them whom had actually continued volleyball into his college career. So when he wasn’t practicing with is university team, the old members of Aobajohsai would often get together and practice with him. They’d even have games against the Karasuno volleyball club as well, if time and fortune would allow. Tonight, Matsukawa’s heat had thoroughly ruined their practice. Still, he was grateful for the air conditioning of Iwaizumi’s car as he pressed his head into the window. Iwaizumi exhaled, another plume of lavender slipping from his body as he pulled from the university parking lot. Matsukawa wanted to sleep, anything to expel the hot flash he was having. Heats sucked, good god they sucked. 

Beyond the courtesy of buying him ice cream to cool him, Iwaizumi had also walked Matsukawa to his door, and didn’t leave until his key was in the lock and the door was closing behind him. The Aobajohsai pack was really something. 

“I’m home,” he announced, stepping from his shoes at the genkan. He sauntered his way to the living room and stretched across the couch, having the energy to do little else in the apartment. 

“Hey,” Hanamaki yawned, materializing from down the hall, voice even stuffier than as was normal. He looked Matsukawa up to down as he entered the living room, a hand caught in his cherry blossom hair. His skin was flushed with fever, eyes circled with darkness. “You don’t wanna shower?” he drawled. 

“You really can’t smell anything in this state, huh?’ Matsukawa, with some effort, dragged himself to sit. 

“Not really,” Hanamaki squinted, “Something wrong Buddy?” 

“Kinda?” Matsukawa blinked, “My heat’s here now.” 

“Fuck, what timing,” Hanamaki through his head back in exasperation, rolling his green eyes. 

“I know,” Matsukawa stood up. Poor Hanamaki looked so tired, and Matsukawa was just about ready to fight his heat symptoms for the sake of caring for him. He’d start with dinner, assuming they still had editable food in that refrigerator. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hanamaki caught him by the arm before he could shuffle to the kitchen, embracing him from behind just as Oikawa had. 

“Well,” Matsukawa searched for an exemplary way to say ‘You seem so tired so I’ll go ahead and fuck my own health to save yours.”

“You weren’t gonna try and cook something were you?” Hanamaki asked. Matsukawa said nothing, though the penitent, puppy downward cast of his gaze gave him away. 

“You’re so sluggish you’d hurt yourself Big Guy,” Hanamaki said, that familiar life that was so very Hanamaki filling his words. “Take a bath or something and get in bed. We can just order something. Sound good?” 

That was reasonable. In fact, Matsukawa felt dumb for not thinking about it before. After a push to his back from Hanamaki, he headed down the hall to their shared bedroom. 

Matsukawa had to fight not to fall asleep in the bathtub. He was feeling less distraught when he left the bathroom, covered in a fluffy robe Hanamaki had got him, hot flash still apparent by the blush washing his skin. His honey scent was coating the house, and that tug to nest, mate, catch pups, was biting at his heart, consuming his thoughts. He and Hanamaki were the paragon of an incompetent couple however, and neither of them were ready to settle down just yet anyhow, so the mating and pups part that made up heat wouldn’t be brought to fruition for a while. He flopped on their bed, head light and empty, and waited. Hanamaki entered soon thereafter, looking no better than Matsukawa in his fevered state. Matsukawa wanted him anyways. Curled on his side in hopes of mitigating his pressing cramps, he raised is brown gaze to Hanamaki and whimpered. 

“How are you feeling Babe?” Hanamaki crossed the room and slid into bed with him, arms coming around Matsukawa’s hips and dragging him flush against him, nuzzling into his neck. Matsukawa purred, that agitated feeling that came with heat sinking beneath Hanamaki’s affection and scent. Heat and fevers were not a fabulous combination. In no time at all the pair were sweating from their shared body heat. Hanamaki would turn away every so often to sneeze, and Matsukawa would kiss his nose and pull him back into an embrace. Wen the doorbell rang from the food Hanamaki ordered, both of them rolled on their backs with twin sighs and glanced at each other. Neither of them really had the capacity to move, Matsukawa plagued with soreness and his hot flashes, Hanamaki weighed down by fatigue and dizziness. 

“Shoot me in the foot if I **ever** again think it’s a good idea to **order** food,” Hanamaki groaned, “I’d rather starve.” 

Matsukawa nodded agreeably, a tired smile shaping his features. Hanamaki rose to sit, but Matsukawa’s hand firm on his chest kept him flat on his back. 

“C’mon, Babe, you’re in heat. Will it kill you to let me handle this one?’ 

Matsukawa nodded.  


Hanamaki huffed another sigh, this time with a distinct roll of summer green eyes. Matsukawa bent to kiss his forehead, then he was striding from the bedroom and past the living room to answer the door. One could easily mistake Hanamaki for the omega and Matsukawa for the alpha. After all, Matsukawa was built like an alpha and despite being one of little words, knew how to get his way and even exercise power if needed, but it was his gentle, timid nature that made him an omega. Hanamaki was generally stronger. He knew how to carry himself in social situations that Matsukawa would falter in, and had quite the way with words. That’s what made him an alpha. Matsukawa said nothing to the delivery man at the door, taking he and Hanamaki’s food, tipping him, and then slinking back into the bedroom. He settled on the bed next to Hanamaki, and with as much energy as they could muster, the two tore into their bags of food. 

The rest of the night was painful. Neither of them succeeded in getting much sleep, both of them way too uncomfortable to fall into slumber. Hanamaki made several trips to the bathroom to blow his nose and throw up earlier’s dinner. Matsukawa spent hours tossing and turning in response to the ache in his shoulders and spine, the migraine blooming in his head, prompting colors that weren’t really there to spark in his field of vision. Both of them did their best to comfort each other, huddling in one another’s arms, giving kisses, fingers caressing hot skin. 

“Pain killers,” Hanamaki muttered into the pillow, each tiny whine Matsukawa tried to muffle with his palm cutting into his heart. He had scent puffed, and while Matsukawa was no longer distressed, he was still in pain. 

“We ran out,” Matsukawa deadpanned, thinking back to his last heat. How had they not managed to pick up more in the past few weeks? They really were a hopeless couple. 

“I can go to the store,” Hanamaki’s eyes flickered to the window, catching the morning gray-blue of the sky filtering through the blinds. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check the time, eyebrows furrowing and lips pressing into a thin line. They had survived the night it seemed, nine a.m. writ in digital white numbers on his lock screen. He wondered just how many times he and Matsukawa drifted in and out of consciousness, as there was no other way they could’ve missed their seven o’clock alarm, not that either of them had planned on attending classs that day anyhow.

“Me too,” Matsukawa said simply. 

“Sorry Honey, that’s a no,’ Hanamaki said, “You’re in no condition to travel.” 

“You either,” Matsukawa shot back, petulant, and as if the universe was on his side, Hanamaki broke into a cloud of coughs to prove his point.

“You’re worse off than I am,” Hanamaki recovered from his coughing fit only to sneeze. Oh it was an awful sneeze, causing pain to shoot through his chest as snot trickled from his nose. With a triumphant little smirk, Matsukawa reached to pluck a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wipe Hanamaki’s face clean. 

“Together?” he asked, laying a gentle kiss to Hanamaki’s wrist. 

“I don’t know why you’re asking. It’s not like you’ll let me do anything else,” Hanamaki’s shoulders sloped, and Matsukawa gave one of his quiet little goblin chuckles. They could’ve ask their friends instead, but Oikawa was definitely with his other team, Iwaizumi was no doubt in class, Yahaba and Kyoutani lived further away, and Kunimi and Kindaichi were likely at work. Besides, how terribly helpless would they seem if they asked their friends to go grociery shopping for them. No matter how unpreventable and wild the situation was, it was a situation that could’ve only happened to them. Aw well. There was nothing they could do about it now, right? And on top of the pain killers, they could pick up things to increase their chances of making it through the rest of the week, like real food.

In either the case of a fever or heat, the grocery store seemed like a daunting place, with shelves and shelves of endless items, aisles making a labyrinth of the area, and of course the shopping karts being pushed along more like race cars than wheeled grocery carriers. The pair entered the store on wobbling legs, both holding their phones before their countenances as they surveyed their separate check lists. Hanamaki would handle the cold and pharmaceutical products, and Matsukawa would handle the cooking and snack goods. Despite the overpopulated space consternated him, Matsukawa could remain at least a touch calm knowing that his rich honey fragrance should be muted at large by the multiple other scents commingling the area, store goods, customers, and otherwise. He made his way down the aisles, clutching tight to his basket as he went along. His footsteps were a little hurried, movements a little clumsy, his thoughts a slight fuzz. God he needed to get out of there. Any longer and he might just collapse. The aches and sores had gotten worse, rising to a stabbing agony that pierced from his knees to his hips whenever he stepped. His stomach was vacant and twisting, and his head was throbbing, a force pushing behind his eyes. Geez, he needed Hanamaki.Did other omegas feel nearly as humiliated as he did during heat, having to so heavily depend on an alpha? His breaths were heavy as he reached for the tonkatsu sauce. Oh hell no. Why between heaven and hell was _he_ having to reach for something?

“Pretty well built for an omega huh?” Chilling words, not at all in the sense of their delivery but rather the way in which they were received. They were clearly directed at Matsukawa, and their content suggested that this person had caught his scent and identified him as an omega. Matsukawa froze mid reach. It could be a beta. They had wonderful noses, but alphas could have better, and an alpha was more likely to approach him about it. He decided to ignore them, retrieving his tonkatsu sauce and dropping it in his basket. With that, he continued down the aisle. 

“Hey. I was talking to you,” a hand at the small of his back, nails digging into the fabric of his jacket, cementing him in place. He turned a disdainful look to his pursuer. They were of course smaller than him, but they had alpha spelled out in slabs of marble muscle and a _very_ expectant smirk, eyes glinting like ebony diamonds, ripples of dark hair swept back, not quite framing his face, which challenged Matsukawa’s in masculinity. Matsukawa didn’t need the alpha to string his hand in his hair to understand his intent, but it was happening, a set of fingers that weren’t Hanamaki’s, weren’t Oikawa’s, weren’t Iwaizumi’s, carding through his web of black curls, mussing it further, and the feeling had him squeezing one eye shut, heart hammering. He peered from one end of the aisle to the other. How did _no one_ else need freakin sauce, or carbonated drinks, or peanut butter, or any of the other absurd things being sold on this aisle? How was _no one_ else even _passing_ by this aisle? 

“You’re pretty cute y’know?” hand twisting in his hair and yanking. Matsukawa made no noise, considering his options. 

“And that scent of yours, honey? No, that just isn’t fair,” he leaned, nuzzling his face into the crook of Matsukawa’s neck. Alarms went off in Matsukawa’s head, a shiver passed through his body. 

“No bonding mark either. So you’re unmated,” his tongue swiping across his skin, a hand wiggling up his button-up. Matsukawa bit his lip. His scent only thickened with his discomfort, his body simultaneously freezing and on fire. 

“Stop,” he spoke lowly, and without waiting for his attacker to comply, threw his hands back and shoved. With a grunt the alpha went sprawling across the linoleum. Matsukawa didn’t wait for him to recover. He was even dizzier now but he preferred stumbling his way down the aisle to suffering harassment. 

“Don’t move Omega!” it was a command. Matsukawa stopped indeed, chest tightening up. It’s not that he wasn’t good at resisting, but he’d rather it not come down to that. Resisting a command would only make his heat worse, and he was already in so much pain. 

“Huh,” the alpha got to his feet and dusted himself off, “You think you can just treat your natural superiors like that?” 

“He’s gross,” Matsukawa mumbled. The alpha was only slightly put off by his choice of wording. A brief pause in his steps, then he was stalking toward him. He reached for Matsukawa’s neck, but never made contact as another scent hit his sensibilities. This one was strong, hot and sweet, coffee, dark, creamy coffee. 

“Fuck!” the unnamed alpha hissed, ‘Another omega? And you both smell really good. I’ll count myself lucky.”  


“Sorry Dude,” Hanamaki swaggered to Matsukawa’s side, grocery basket in hand, “I’m not an omega.” And typically alphas had stronger scents than omegas, too. Hanamaki may have been weak with fever but his scent puff was just as powerful as ever, a plume of his coffee fragrance almost suffocating the air. Matsukawa’s aggressor slumped to his knees, eyes a bit glassy, his head no doubt devoid of valid thought. He had been intoxicated. There were drawbacks of course. The alpha wasn’t the only one susceptible to Hanamaki’s scent. Matsukawa’s basket clambered to the floor and he swooned. 

“I gotcha Issei,” Hanamaki gathered him in his arms and held him for a bit. Hearing his name was a bit sobering, enough for Matsukawa to nuzzle back and purr. They remained like that until Matsukawa could effectively hold his basket. The pair polished off their check lists together. 

‘You guys are about as useful as eating soup with a fork,” Iwaizumi declared, and marched into Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s kitchen. 

“Mean, Iwa, not so rough,” Oikawa got offended for them. 

“He’s a little bit right though,” Yahaba added, voice a bit strained as he pushed the couches and coffee table against the wall to open up the living room floor. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had called Iwaizumi over to make lunch for them, because shopping with heat, a fever, and an unwarranted sexual advance, took _that_ much time. Oikawa, worried as ever, had tagged along, and Yahaba was in the area and accompanied as a form of insurance. In addition, he _actually_ knew how to cook. Once finished, Yahaba trailed Iwaizumi into the kitchen and Oikawa got to work helping Matsukawa assemble a nest in the middle of the living room. When the nest was finished, Oikawa made himself at home on the couch, turning on the television to a crappy ron-com and opening up his textbook. Pots and drawers clanged as Yahaba and Iwaizumi discussed what would be appropriate to make for lunch. Despite the chaos and the noise, it was peaceful, homely. 

“How are you feeling Issei?” Hanamaki asked, now on a futon absolutely caked in blankets and pillows. He ghosted his fingers over the contours of Matsukawa’s visage, his free arm saddled under him and pressing him close. Matsukawa nodded, chipper despite his drowsiness, and tucked his head under Hanamaki’s chin. He left a kiss at his throat and hummed, and Hanamaki heard the unspoken “Good. Thank you Takahiro.”

The two were of course, still drowning in each other’s sweat, but Hanamaki’s symptoms had calmed some and Matsukawa was no longer in pain. They were content in each other’s arms, growing ever sleepy as time passed, the background sounds light, familial noise behind their stupors. Matsukawa felt better, physically still pretty garbage but emotionally safe. Hanamaki was still pissed that someone put their hands on his Issei and commanded him, but having Matsukawa, trusting and snuggly in his embrace, was enough to soothe him. It had been rough, but they were all right.


	2. KuniKindai: Cold Inside, Cold Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Headcanon: Kunimi presented as an omega early. This affects his life in a million different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Kunimi. I claim to love you, and yet I treat you this way.  
>  **Warning:** Look out for low self-esteem, discrimination, and then briefly referenced violence and non-con.  
> Without further ado-

Kunimi didn’t purr. Kunimi didn’t purr, he didn’t nest, and he even didn’t scent puff. It was odd, as all omegas were known to do such things, but then, Kunimi never displayed the maternal instinct attached to being an omega, either. He behaved more like a beta than anything else, and it was weird, really weird. There had always been the unspoken concern that he was diagnosed incorrectly when he presented at the unusually early age of twelve, but that died at the end of the high school, and the Aobajousai pack-Silver Blessings was their official name- had by now accepted that Kunimi was just _different,_ and that was totally okay. 

“How many of you pups want hot chocolate?” Oikawa pitched his voice into the living room, standing with one hand cocked on his hip by the kitchen counters, eyeing the pots of simmering milk on the stovetop. The others were gathered in the living room, trading fifteen minute intervals spent under the kotatsu. The heated table was big enough so that four people could huddle around the table at a time. It was currently Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Yahaba, and Kyoutani’s turn. Kunimi and Kindaichi shared the couch, Kunimi lithely stretched out on his stomach with Kindaichi’s weight an ever present comfort on top of him.

“Matsun and I’ll take some,” Hanamaki replied, lying on his side abreast Matsukawa, his bent knee resting on his omega’s legs. It wasn’t even fair. Matsukawa wasn’t even omega sized, evident in the smooth muscle toning his back -that muscle Hanamaki was running his hands over- and yet he still pulled off being an omega. He was pretty, with that halo of midnight curls and those lazy, coco brown eyes. Despite his build he was gentle and kind, and had a very sweet smell, honey. Then there was Oikawa. Every omega envied him, and Kunimi was no exception. He was tall, svelte, and shaped with curves, a head full of cinnamon brown curls, deep, butter brown eyes, keen and tempting against his white skin, pink lips always plumped in a dangerous smirk. He smelled of coconut, fresh, flirty, free, and had just about mastered scent puffing. Kunimi found himself envying Yahaba most though. Yahaba, whom was half-buried under the kotatsu, wispy strands of butterscotch hair splayed over Kyoutani’s shirt as he purred into his chest. He acted the least bit like an omega, sassy and shallow, and yet, he could still purr, nest, and scent puff too. So, so why was Kunimi always struggling to do such things? Well, he knew the answer to one of them at least. 

“Hey uhh, Kunimi? You want hot chocolate?” Kindaichi asked, tenderly, voice a touch muffled in Kunimi’s hair.

“..sure,” Kunimi nodded.

“Yeah um, we’ll take some too,” Kindaichi called.

“The Princess’ll take some, but I’ll pass,” Kyoutani added.

“Okeydokey,” Oikawa sang, and in a matter of comfortable minutes spent humming and stirring, he was balancing a tray of steaming mugs into the living room, Iwaizumi at his side. Then they were switching. Once the hot chocolate was distributed, Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Yahaba, and Kyoutani we’re settling onto the couches, and Kunimi, Kindaichi, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa scrambled under the kotatsu.

“You said you didn’t want any,” Yahaba huffed, half his weight draped over the couch’s arm, a pointed glare leveled at Kyoutani.

Kyoutani, sitting beside him, with a stolen hot chocolate mug in hand, only blinked. “I changed my mind.”

“Jesus Christ no. Give it back,” Yahaba lunged for the mug. Kyoutani deftly avoided it by leaning right.

“You should share with your mate,” he snorted, taking a sip anyways.

“I don’t see any mating mark,” Yahaba moved a hand to his neck, where Kyoutani’s mark would be some day.

“Who’s fault do you think that is?” Kyoutani whipped his head, “You’re the one who’s all like,” he made his voice all girlish and reedy, “‘I don’t belong to anyone.’ When I first suggested it.”

“Dear god, do I really sound like that to you?” Yahaba brushed a hand through his bangs, and by now the entire room was bubbling with mirth. It was warm, familial moments like these that made Kindaichi really appreciate being in a pack. The windows were clouded with snowflakes, and the sky by now a deep corvid blue canvas, but they were safe from the cold in the sanctity of Oikawa’s living room, with lamps burning gold and the kotatsu and hot chocolate keeping them warm, another one of Oikawa’s dramas humming on the television. Kunimi was being a little quieter than usual, still as the dead, breaths soft and his cheek turned into one of the pillows strewn across the floor, but that wasn’t superbly uncommon. Kindaichi would ask him about it later, but until then, he wouldn’t soil the mood. He was content with holding Kunimi in his arms, his face lost in silky black hair as he pressed him close against his chest 

“Can we **please** watch something else?” Iwaizumi huffed, having just about all he could take of the Thorn and Rose saga. 

“Like what?” Oikawa asked. 

“Don’t you keep action movies or something?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“I could so go for a good comedy right now,” Hanamaki put in. 

“Here it goes,” Kunimi mumbled, referring to the lethal debate match over which movie to watch Aobajousai always got into. Glad to hear him say something, Kindaichi chuckled, planting a kiss on his pale cheek.

Another thing Kunimi fell short in, where most omegas exceeded, was looks. Most omegas were dainty if not then absolutely beautiful, and well, Kunimi wasn’t so sure he fit that mold either. He didn’t think he was ugly per say, but undesirable at best, tired and average at worst. So, that night, when Oikawa had invited all the omegas to his room to ready for bed while the alphas of Aobajousai straightened out the living room, Kunimi couldn’t help but feel a little bad. God, the steep decline in his self esteem from middle school to college was impressive. 

“Hey Kunimi, you all right?” Oikawa asked, glancing over from his spot on his Queen bed, sliding his shirt from over his head, revealing that creamy white skin, the gently toned expanse of his torso. Kunimi’s scent was never very strong. It was hard to detect if one wasn’t practiced to, which made reading Kunimi’s emotions a great deal more difficult than the majority of the secondary gender population. 

“I’m okay,” he was leaning against the wall, “I think my heat’s coming on soon though, in a couple days maybe.” It wasn’t a lie. Though that wasn’t precisely on his mind, he did have this feeling in his lower abdomen. 

“My last heat was horrible,” Yahaba was settled at Oikawa’s vanity, combing through his hair, strands running through his fingers like gold satin. “Like, really bad. Everything was so sore and I wanted Kyoutani, like **wanted** him, desperately. I think we went through like five condoms in one night, and I don’t remember getting any sleep throughout that entire week.” 

“TMI,” Matsukawa commented from the bathroom, having finished brushing his teeth. 

“You still call him Kyoutani?” Oikawa asked, and was now pulling this scoop neck shirt over his head. Omegas had a fancy for soft things and that T-shirt was just that, spun of fine wool to the point of being near translucent. It was oversized, hiding the pajama shorts Oikawa was wearing underneath.

“Kentarou just sounds so weird,” Yahaba frowned at his reflection, “Besides, when he’s not using prickly nicknames like princess and marshmallow, he’s still calls me Yahaba.” 

“Gotcha,” Oikawa joined Yahaba at the mirror to brush his own hair, “So, what was up with that heat of yours? Sounds kinda serious. You’re okay right?” 

“Yeah, Kyoutani took me to a clinic when it was all over,” Yahaba said, “that one guy from Karasuno works there, Ennoshita Chikara? Who knew he was interested in gender mechanics.” He shrugged, always one to gossip, “anyways, he was the one who looked me over, said my body was ready for pups. My heat was bad because my body’s ready for pups. Apparently that means Kyoutani’s ruts are gonna be pretty bad too, at least some times. He said I’d have to deal with trash heats at least twice out of the year. Can you believe it? **My** body’s ready for pups?” 

“That’s pretty unfortunate,” Oikawa looped his arm over Yahaba’s shoulders and dragged him into a side hug. “What’d Mad Dog think?” he quizzed, privy to Yahaba’s purrs and nuzzles. 

“He was shocked, then started making fun of me,” Yahaba said, and the two shared a laugh. 

“I take it you don’t plan on having pups though?” Oikawa said. 

“No way, fuck that. I can barely keep up with college. I don’t have time for pups,” Yahaba spat, and the two were laughing again. Matsukawa had ambled back into the bedroom, black chiffon T and cotton pants equipped. 

“Anyways Kunimi, you want some help nest building this time?” Oikawa gazed at him from over his shoulder. 

“Oh, no thanks,” Kunimi said, because he wasn’t sure that he could deal with the utter humiliation of being taught how to build a nest in college, freshmen or not. He was just so bad at all things omega, and while he couldn’t say why, he almost didn’t want to be good. Had he started in middle school like most he may not even be in the situation that he was in, but middle school had been hard, and support was the last thing he got for being an omega, repelling him from the concept entirely. He hadn’t meant to let that carry into college, but he had, and this repulsion of his own identity was all consuming. 

“Akira,” Oikawa cooed, “You should-“ 

“It’s fine, please don’t worry,” Kunimi said. Oikawa exhaled and nodded. 

“Have you always had this?” Matsukawa, of all people, was the one to break the thickening silence, shaking a velvet jewelry box he found on Oikawa’s bedside table. 

“You know I love me something shiny,” Oikawa flipped his hair. All omegas did. “You wanna see?” he got from the vanity bench and crossed the room to Matsukawa, Yahaba a step behind. 

Ignoring their poor alpha partners, they spent the rest of the night trying on Oikawa’s jewelry. With a push, Kunimi had joined in as well. 

That had been nice, but it did little to mitigate his internalized suffering.

The next morning was slow and groggy, and the members of Silver Blessings grudgingly struggled to get up from the futons placed around the living room to run their errands. It was a Saturday, but each and every one of them had things piling up on their to-do list by the week’s end. Iwaizumi was up and brewing coffee in the kitchen while Oikawa was half-asleep on the table by the time Kunimi had come down, dressed in his work uniform. He and Kindaichi both serviced a coffee shop in the center of town. 

“Bye, you guys take care,” Iwaizumi said quietly as the couple headed for the door, because Hanamaki and Matsukawa were still sprawled out sleeping. 

“Yeah, see you later,” Kindaichi replied. Then he and Kunimi were stepping out onto the porch, door shutting quickly behind them as to prevent much cold air from getting into Oikawa’s lovely home. The streets were caked in snow, and the flakes were still falling, the sky dark in the morning hour. The breeze was swift and biting, making Kunimi shiver in his coat.

“Damn, it’s freezing,” Kindaichi put his arms around Kunimi and held him for a moment. 

“The heater in the car might be more effective,” Kunimi nudged Kindaichi’s shoulder with his nose, didn’t purr, and the pair walked to their car, boots crunching in the snow. 

“Did you sleep well Kindaichi?” Kunimi asked, sliding into the driver’s seat, revving the car and switching on its heater. 

“Well, I’ve got this essay that’s been stressing the hell out of me,” Kindaichi leaned back in his seat, “I spend a little time worrying over it before bed because the rubric and prompt literally make no sense to me, and Professor Kaino did a terrible job of explaining it, but otherwise I slept fine.” 

“An essay?” Kunimi tapped the steering wheel, “That all? Why didn’t you ask for help?” 

“I did?” Kindaichi looked sidelong, “But the TA didn’t have a plausible explanation either.” 

“I meant me Dork,” Kunimi jostled him with his elbow. 

“Oh um well,” Kindaichi focused on his hands, folded in his lap, entering shy sensitive mode. “You seem kinda out of it lately. Are you okay?” 

“I’m okay enough to help you with an essay,” Kunimi stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Well uhh, you sure?” Kindaichi asked, “Cause ...” He trailed off, peering out the window as Kunimi pulled down the street and took the immediate turn. 

“Please don’t worry about me Kindaichi,” Kunimi elbowed him again. 

Kunimi’s nightmare of a day began after work. Kindaichi was waiting for him in the car. It was around twelve in the afternoon and the pair had plans to get some ramen for lunch then they’d resume their other errands, but first, Kunimi had to ask his boss for a couple days off in order to survive his upcoming heat. 

“No,” his boss said simply, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this.” Because Kunimi didn’t have a notably sweet scent, because Kunimi wasn’t small or pretty, because Kunimi didn’t purr when that coworker Natsujima funneled his black hair through his fingers, because Kunimi was too apathetic and laissez faire. Fuck health certificates and fuck ID. There was no way he needed a break for heat. He probably didn’t even have to deal with cramps, crashes, and cravings.

Kunimi blinked. He had expected this. He had this conversation with his boss every two to three months, but he had to ask. He couldn’t just excuse himself from work. “I **am** an omega you know,” he stated, pursing his lips. It felt weird to say, seeing as had it not been for his heat, he may not have considered himself an omega either, just some weird guy with a freak ability to conceive children if he felt like it.

“That makes no difference,” his boss said, “Do you think I just hand out free days? If I let omegas ditch work every time they had heat I’d be short half my staff nine times out of ten.” This was a lie. Of the human population, forty five percent had secondary genders. Of that forty five percent, twenty two percent were alphas, thirteen percent were betas, and the remaining ten percent were omegas. Kunimi doubted immensely that so many of those omegas made up this man’s coffee house employees. 

“All right then. Thank you for your time,” Kunimi bowed, _Such as it was,_ and left the shop. 

“How’d it go?” Kindaichi asked when Kunimi slid into the driver’s seat beside him, “He change his mind this time?” 

“Not at all,” Kunimi said. 

“You want me to say something to him?” Kindaichi asked, as he did every time. 

“No need to wast your time,’ Kunimi shook his head, “Besides, he’s so ridiculously cranky he might just decide to fire you for speaking out against him, even if it is on my behalf, and even if it **is** for a good cause.” And he was wearing a nonchalant mask, keeping a cool face, because Kindaichi was emotional and really _would_ jump their boss for him, but Kunimi’s insides were boiling, his heart pounding with how so very irritated he was. 

The ramen was good, it was, and light conversation with Kindaichi had him feeling a little better, but then came his doctor’s appointment. Kunimi’s scent wasn’t like nesting. He didn’t scent puff because he chose not to. He didn’t scent puff because he _could_ _not._ It was a genuine struggle for him. The general presenting age for subjects of secondary gender was fifteen to seventeen, eighteen if one was a late bloomer. Kunimi had presented at twelve. Naturally there’d be drawbacks, for Kunimi, it was a pheromone deficiency, decreasing the prominence of his scent, making it exceedingly difficult to scent puff and therefore detracting from Kunimi’s will to do so. 

“I’m surprised you still come here Kunimi,” Dr. Mizuyama remarked, in his easy way of talking. 

“Ohhh,” Kunimi said, not sure of ought else to say, sweeping the white walls of the clinic with his shadowy gaze. The paper bedding the examination table crinkled as he shifted a bit, swinging one leg over the other. He didn’t really want to know why Mizuyama said it. 

“I mean, if I were you,” Mizuyama shuffled over to the medicine shelves, “I wouldn’t want to be an omega. I certainly wouldn’t waste time and money on doctor’s appointments and pheromone shots to fit in with a weird species.” Kunimi’s heart stopped. Why were most of the gender mechanics people whom didn’t even care about the struggles of secondary genders? Was it to exercise power? Gain control because they knew the secondaries needed them? Either way, Kunimi felt like he was back in middle school. He had visited Mizuyama for seven years, and still, every time he heard something like that, it simultaneously pissed him off and made him feel very _very_ small. 

“I mean, caramel isn’t much of a scent anyways am I right?” Mizuyama was back in front of him, proffering to him his usual pheromone kit. 

“Thank you,” Kunimi eyed the needles in the kit, his throat closing up a little. 

“Well, I think you’re all good then,” Mizuyama pat his shoulder. Kunimi bit his lip, bowed, and hopped from the examination table. Then he was sauntering from the office and back into the clinic’s lobby, where Kindaichi sat in a waiting chair, entertaining himself on his phone. He was the only one of their pack whom knew of Kunimi’s deficiency, because it was so terribly embarrassing and he didn’t know how to tell everyone else. 

“Hey, you got your stuff?” Kindaichi was up and bounding toward him, pulling him into a hug. 

“Yup,” Kunimi nodded against his shoulder, didn’t purr, “We have one more thing to do. Then I can help you with your essay.” 

Asking the college secretaries for an excusal from class was the icing on this shit cake of a day. Only one of the secretaries was in right now, a guy, as it were, that went by name of professor Sonosuke Hatsunami, and he was currently holding Saturday study and time management workshops at the university. So, while Kindaichi went to retrieve some textbooks he needed, Kunimi would slip into Hatsunami’s classroom and request a couple days off in respect of his heat. This wasn’t the first time he had asked, of course. Now, the most irking quality to Hatsunami was that he _was_ an alpha. He was once made to beg for days off in order to deal with his rut while in school, at work, so why he did this to Kunimi was beyond him. 

“Well how do you plan to compensate for the days you miss nursing your supposed heat?” Hatsunami had countered, twirling his pen. He had agreed to talk to Kunimi out in the hall as not to disturb the workshop. 

Kunimi bristled. 

_Breathe._

In, and out. 

In. 

Out. 

“I can very easily do my assignments at home. It’d just be difficult for me to sit in class with the pains and the urges. Plus, the presence of other alphas will make me panicky and nervous. I really wouldn’t be able to concentrate. So if I could just stay home for a few days next week to adjust to it? Wednesday and Thursday maybe?” 

“Other alphas would make you nervous?” Hatsunami stepped close. He was about Kindaichi’s height including his dumb onion hair do, “I don’t believe that. After all, alphas are only really attracted to beauty and scent. You happen to have neither of those.” 

“I don’t think I could exist as an omega without a scent,” Kunimi harrumphed. 

“Really?” Hatsunami almost laughed the word out, “Then show me. Scent puff.”

It was a command, Kunimi understood, as his head spun, as the faintest caramel fragrance dusted the air. Sure he had gotten a pheromone shot at his doctor’s appointment, but the purpose of that was to stimulate his scent, make sure it was there. It didn’t really increase how powerful his scent was or how powerful he could make it. There was a throbbing pain where his scent glands were, pulsating up his neck. 

“Do I make you nervous Kunimi?” Hatsunami crooned. What a weasel. 

Kunimi slumped against the window behind him, “Yes.” He wouldn’t lie.

“Kunimi, all ready to go?” Kindaichi was coming down the hall, books folded in his bag. His pace quickened when he saw Kunimi leaning against the wall, Hatsunami hovering over him.

“Hey, back off jackass!” Kindaichi growled, steps becoming a flounce as he neared. Shaking his head to Kunimi, Hatsunami left.

“You okay?” Kindaichi gathered Kunimi by his shoulders and stood him upright.

“I need a nap,” Kunimi said, “Then I’ll be fine.” But as they walked from the school, winter chill rustling their clothes, leaving footprints in the afternoon snow as they crossed the parking lot to their car, Kindaichi realized just how rumpled Kunimi looked. It would’ve been cute if not for the sobriety of the atmosphere. Kunimi kept touching a hand to his neck. His dark eyes were cast downward, lips curved into a frown. His gloved hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his coat and he looked _exhausted._ In addition, Kindaichi could _smell_ him. He didn’t have the best nose but he had practiced understanding Kunimi’s allusive scent since they were in middle school and he could _smell_ how upset he was.

“Kunimi,” Kindaichi caught his wrist before Kunimi could open the car door.

“Huh?” Kunimi glanced at him.

“How’d things go today **really?** ”

“...” Kunimi averted his gaze, “It’s quite cold out here, Kindaichi.”

“Then you‘ll talk to me when we get home?”

“I don’t know if-“

“Kunimi,” Kindaichi chided.

“I’ll think about it.”

The car ride was silent and the pair exchanged not even a look as they entered their apartment. Kindaichi crouched to turn on the space heater while Kunimi went to hang their coats.

“What do you want me to make for dinner tonight?” Kunimi came to stand beside Kindaichi.

“Never mind that. For now, tell me what’s been bothering you,” Kindaichi got to his feet.

“You don’t have to worry about me, y’know.”

Kindaichi heaved a sigh, features hardening. Kunimi gasped as Kindaichi trapped him against the nearest wall, eyes burning. Kindaichi had always been skinny and fragile but he sure did look big now.

“You don’t have to be so self-sacrificial all the time Dude!” he shouted, “You always act like you don’t care, like nothing matters to you, but it’s okay to be hurt. You’re majoring in psychology and yet you can be so clueless about emotions sometimes!” He took a moment to catch his breath, breathe, relax. He pressed his elbows to the wall on either side of Kunimi, then let his head drop until his chin was snug in Kunimi’s shoulder. “You’re always taking care of me, no matter what. Whether it was volleyball, Kageyama, or being an alpha, you’ve always protected me. Please, will you let me protect you? At least a couple times out of your life?”

“Oh ... okay,” Kunimi whispered, bobbing his chin in a shaky nod. Kindaichi had always been aggressive but seldom toward him. It was such a shock, got his heart thudding just a little bit faster.

“So then,” Kindaichi took Kunimi’s hands and lead him to their shared bed, “Tell me what happen today,”

So, with unsurprising strain, Kunimi recounted the events of that day and the night before, explaining how he could never quite drag himself away from this self-disgust of his, and how being around other omegas went to the effect of making him feel less. This wasn’t news to Kindaichi, as the pair had been discussing it since Kunimi’s dip in self-esteem. Kunimi continued with the stories of his boss and Hatsunami, outlining that while their rejections were nothing new to him, they had still been irritating nonetheless. He followed that up with why his neck hurt, Hatsunami commanding him to scent puff and how he couldn’t really do it.

“So that’s why,” Kindaichi had mused, leaning and kissing the hollow of his throat. He was aggravated, The scent of pear thick and harsh in the air, and well, Kunimi didn’t blame him. He finished his story by explaining the visit to Mizuyama’s office, his sadness over his near nonexistent scent, and how every interaction brought a wave of past high school feelings rushing over him, remembering how he was the only sixth grader with a heat, remembering how others were either cruel or distant, the beatings, the confusion, the limp he once brought home from an adult alpha that liked to hang around Kitagawa First and just ... this was such a dumpster day.

“I’m tired, emotionally,” he murmured, cheeks still puffed up and pink from crying, the last of his tears twinkling in his gray eyes. Kindaichi had pulled him into his lap, into his arms, his soothing purr rumbling from his chest. His scent had mellowed out, hanging sweet and calming in the air. Kunimi felt gross. His throat was all choked up with snot and his eyes stung, his head light with an embarrassed little flush filtering over his skin. Admittedly though, it felt good to just cry, good to have Kindaichi console him.

“Firstly let me just apologize for not being there to beat the ever loving hell out of those bastards,” Kindaichi threaded his fingers in that soft black hair, “That was a crime against you.”

Kunimi coughed out a laugh.

“Secondly, I don’t care about societal criteria, you’re still an omega, a great omega, **my** omega. So what if you’re not good at all the omega stuff like nest building, it won’t change my mind about you. And we’re in a good pack okay? You can ask for help and no one will judge you for it.

“As for your scent,” he cupped Kunimi’s face in his hands, “I totally get why this is so hard to deal with, I’m a little selfish too, cause I like that no one else can smell you. Only I can. It’s a special privilege and I’m lucky to have it.”

Kunimi shook his head in a failed attempt to get free of Kindaichi and hide his blush.

“Do you wanna talk about the middle school stuff?” Kindaichi cooed. Kunimi hummed a “no.”

“All right then,” Kindaichi pressed a kiss to his temple, “But I’ve told you before, that’s really heavy stuff. And even though it happened years ago, you should still talk to someone about it, whether it’s me, or a professional, or the pack.”

“I know. I will. Thank you Kindaichi.”

And it was only a couple hours later that Kunimi found himself lifted from the tiled floor in the kitchen and sat on the edge of the counter.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, as Kindaichi’s hands left his waist and the alpha moved to stand between his legs.

“I’m trying to cook y’know?” Kunimi tried, but he was weak right now, didn’t mind being handled. His fingers twined in Kindaichi’s thick hair, legs wrapping around his waist.

“So, can you cook later please?” Kindaichi mumbled against Kunimi’s lips, pressing into a kiss. Kunimi’s thoughts floated upward, out of reach, his head light with kindaichi’s taste. The latter’s arms came around him, fitting up his shirt, sliding up and down that slender back. 

“Yes..’ Kunimi exhaled and their brief moment of separation. Then they were kissing again, their lips moving in soft, passionate rhythms. It was usually Kunimi whom initiated sex in their dynamic, as Kindaichi was easily flustered around Kunimi and had a habit of getting shy and losing his words. At present however, Kindaichi was angry, angry at all the crap his partner has had to take for so long, and he wanted to make Kunimi his, claim his omega as his own. Kunimi unfastened the first few buttons of his own black Henley and tilted his head, exposing the white column of his throat. Kindaichi was kissing downward, making a trail down Kunimi’s neck and over the newly revealed skin of his chest. Kunimi was so smooth. Kindaichi hoisted Kunimi in his arms and carried him back to their bedroom, lying him out on the bed. Kunimi shuffled from his pants, shuddering as Kindaichi ducked his head between his legs, sucking bruises and biting marks into Kunimi’s inner thighs.

“Kindaichi ...” Kunimi breathed out his name, closing his eyes, rings of pleasure blossoming up his thighs. 

“Would you mind if I recked you a little tonight?” Kindaichi took Kunimi by the hips, peering down at him. 

“Hardly,” Kunimi fluttered his lashes, his shaded stare hazy and wanting, his black hair a disheveled pool around him, the tip of his tongue resting on his bottom lip.

The pair didn’t end up eating that night. 

Kindaichi had woken an immediately stilled. Their window was fogged with early morning snow, the sun sifting through the glass and making it look rather milky outside. It was chilly in their bedroom, the heater having automatically shut off hours ago. Or perhaps he was cold because he was unclad. The blankets were a mess over his bare body. Kunimi was tucked into a tight ball against him, emitting a very sweet sound. It was very quiet and soft, seamless and sleepy. His purr.

Kunimi was purring. 

He was sleeping too, but he was in fact purring. 

It was a start.

Kindaichi couldn’t help the way his features brightened, the grand smile that softened his countenance, the fuzzy warmth settling in his chest. Kunimi was purring.

Kindaichi sneezed. Man it was cold. Kunimi stirred, peeling his eyes open, brushing his hair from his face and shivering from the chill. He stretched out, supple like a cat, and yawned. Kindaichi swore under his breath. He hadn’t meant to wake him. 

“Fuck, I’m hungry,” Kunimi cursed. He pecked Kindaichi on the cheek, then was draping one of their blankets over his shoulders like a cloak and ambling from the room. 

“Kunimi uhh, what are you doing?” Kindaichi asked. 

“Need food,” Kunimi grumbled, vanishing into the kitchen. Kindaichi sighed, sliding from bed to get dressed in hopes of convincing his zombie of a boyfriend to at least protect himself from the cold first. He shook his head, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left kudos. Your support means the world to me.<3  
> Look after yourselves now please, and have a wonderful day. :)


	3. KyouHaba: Issues that Bloom, Love that Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third Headcanon: Being an omega is rough, but a touch starved one, even rougher. Yahaba can attest to that first hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :)  
> Hope you hunnies are all getting along in life well and taking good care of yourselves.   
> **Warning:** Watch out for mild dub-con and references to male pregnancy.  
> Enjoy! :)

Oikawa had so kindly and affectionately named Yahaba’s boundless respect for his upperclassmen, a non sexual kink for upperclassmen. Apparently everyone in old Aobajousai agreed, because Yahaba struggled to catch a break from all the teasing and taunting. The only one of their upperclassmen who didn’t seem to care all that much was Iwaizumi, but the others were definite danger zones. It wasn’t like that at all, Yahaba would think. It was only that he was a touch starved omega, the foundations of which he would not like to share, thank you very much, and that his upperclassmen were always extremely cuddly. Kunimi was almost touch-averse and Kindaichi too shy to initiate anything, and well, Kyoutani had his own ways of showing affection, like not screaming at you for poking fun at his love for animals, or grumbling under his breath rather than cutting you down with whatever rude thing he had to say. Even in their relationship, Yahaba was the one orchestrating most of their physical affections, unless rough, angry sex was involved. The third years though, they were different. Oikawa was snuggly by nature and couldn’t pass a day without touching each and everyone of his pack members. Hanamaki was physical to the effect of probing reactions out of others, as well as showing his affection, and Matsukawa would do anything Hanamaki did. Iwaizumi was absurdly protective and touched to remind you that you were in his pack, that you belonged to him. Factoring in all that, Yahaba’s touch starvation, and an omega’s natural need to be loved, it was no surprise that he was sensitive to his upperclassmen and wanted to please them. He didn’t have a non sexual kink. 

The group had been busy enough that Oikawa’s scheduled scenting day had been overlooked by many a other pressing matters. So they had gotten together that next Saturday to have a little picnic and feel some pack love. It was sunny out, winter leaving with no grudge and spring warming in quite nicely. The air was soft and fragrant with blossoming flora, the sun hot enough so that a single long-sleeved garment would keep anyone warm. The Aobajousai pack had gone down to the park, which was mercifully empty so early in the afternoon, setting up blankets by the pond and breaking out their fine woven baskets, brimmed with fruits, sandwiches, pastries, and adorable mini champagne bottles. After apologizing for missing the scent day, Oikawa dismissed everyone to do as they wished, encouraging fun and affection. The air was bubbling with chatter and music thrummed from a wireless speaker perched on one of the blankets’ edges. Oikawa was making his rounds, sparing a little affection to each of his pups. Kunimi and Kindaichi were the youngest, so he payed care to them first.

“How are you doing Kindaichi?” Yahaba heard him ask gently.

“Oh hey,” kindaichi perked up immediately, falling into Oikawa’s open arms despite the obvious rosy hue coloring his cheeks. Oikawa squeezed him tight, a musical purr escaping his chest as he kissed and nuzzled. Oikawa pressed his lips to Kindaichi’s temple, then raised his chin to do the same to his scent gland. Kindaichi shuddered. Leaving him with a pat to his cheek, Oikawa got to his feet to cuddle Kunimi next. Kunimi, of course, was not superbly thrilled from his spot splayed out under the shade of a tree, but he relaxed as soon as Oikawa draped himself on top of him. Oikawa nuzzled into the back of Kunimi’s neck, trailing kisses over his cheeks and glands. Kunimi rolled on his back to give Oikawa easier access and cooed his soft sleepy purr. Yahaba still hadn’t gotten use to hearing it, despite Kunimi had begun opening up last winter.

“You don’t have to watch him quite so closely,” Kyoutani elbowed him, referring to Oikawa, knocking him from his trance. Yahaba hadn’t realized he _had_ been. His scent had thickened too, with desire perhaps. Goodness. Was he _that_ touch starved? 

“I’m not,” Yahaba said, belated. 

“Omegas can’t easily impregnate each other y’know?” Kyoutani retorted. 

“Shut up Kyoutani!” Yahaba smacked his shoulder, a pout shaping his lips. Kyoutani didn’t stifle his snicker. Soon enough Oikawa was getting up and sashaying their way. Yahaba’s heart sped up.

“Hey there Mad Dog,” oikawa grinned, cupping Kyoutani’s face in his hands. 

“For the love of god cut it out,” Kyoutani’s features hardened in a scowl, but he was sighing as Oikawa tucked against him, nosing his neck and purring, that coconut scent blossoming into the air. Kyoutani blew an exhale, setting a hand at the back of Oikawa’s head. Cranky as he could be, he couldn’t much resist the affections of his pack leader. 

“You know you love it,” Oikawa gave him one last nudge. Then he slipped away from him, gathering Yahaba into his arms. 

“Oikawa,” Yahaba slumped into his chest. Oikawa purred and nuzzled him, running his hands through butterscotch locks. It felt good, so freakin good. Yahaba’s mind left him, and he focused only on Oikawa’s fresh scent, getting dizzy with it, and the hand cradling his head, and the one lifting his chin. Oikawa touched his lips to Yahaba’s scent gland. Yahaba _moaned,_ and he would’ve been confounded at the sound had it not been for how lost and incoherent he was. Smiling, Oikawa ruffled his hair and left, snuggling right up to Hanamaki . 

“Finally, my turn,” an easy smile brightened Hanamaki’s features and he tipped his head back, exposing his neck. Hanamaki was always far too easygoing and vulnerable to be an alpha.

“You’re enthusiasm tickles my heart,” Oikawa kissed a trail up Hanamaki’s throat, letting his lips linger on his scent gland, delighting in his lazy purr. Yahaba was left breathless, heart still pounding, unable to focus on ought else but the feelings he had just experienced. Oikawa moved onto Matsukawa, crawling into his lap and straddling him, burying his face into his bared neck.

“Hey Marshmallow, snap the fuck out of it,” Kyoutani flicked Yahaba’s forehead. Yahaba squeaked, the stinging sensation ripping him from his second trance in the past fifteen minutes. 

“Wha, what is it?” his eyes fluttered between open and shut as he examined Kyoutani. 

“You’re just kinda sitting there, shaking,” Kyoutani folded his arms over his chest, countenance scrunched in concern.

“Oh,” Yahaba brushed a hand along his cheek. His face was hot, vision a touch blurry. “I’m fine,” he said, though he absolutely _pined_ for more touch. He wished Kyoutani, for once in this man’s short life, would just wrap his arms around him, purr, and duck his face in the neck Yahaba would happily bare for him. Kyoutani was similar to Kunimi though. Affection simply didn’t come as nature to them, though Yahaba hadn’t a clue how you could lack a tolerance for cuddles _and_ have a secondary gender.

“Hey Yahaba,” Hanamaki dropped behind Yahaba, legs folded beneath himself. Matsukawa settled in front of him, pressing the lip of one of the mini champagne bottles to Yahaba’s lips. Yahaba drank, it was probably a good idea. He needed to take his mind off this need for touch that he battled with daily. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were sporting their twin smirks, those awful smiles that added a sleazy overlay to their features. So, it was more than likely they were making fun of him, albeit in all good nature, and they were caring for him nonetheless.

“Hi Hanamaki, Matsukawa,” Yahaba mumbled, a bit addled by Hanamaki’s coffee scent. He would’ve used the sempai honorific, but it turned out that it made the pair uncomfortable, so he settled for san.

“You look so tired,” Matsukawa tilted his head and squinted, “Has work been very mean to you?” 

“No, I’m fine,” for some reason the question brought a warmth to Yahaba’s cheeks.

“You should probably relax anyways,” Hanamaki pressed a kiss to the crook of Yahaba’s neck, “You’re scent’s getting a little sour, like you’re mad or something.” Damn alphas and their hunting noses. Yahaba, sassy as ever, had a billion retorts resting on his tongue, but why, why should he when Hanamaki had his hand on his shoulder, guiding him to lean back against his chest. Why, when Matsukawa lied out on top of him, head cushioned into Yahaba’s collar. One does not know the bliss of weight until they’ve had Matsukawa flop on them.

“Take it easy Issei,” Hanamaki said, a chuckle in his words, “You’re heavy. Not everyone has accommodated your weight like me. And Yahaba here is fragile.”

“Hmph, he likes it,” Matsukawa murmured, voice muffled in Yahaba’s neck. He was adorable. Yahaba’s eyes flickered around for Kyoutani. He was currently in a staring match with Kunimi. Apparently they both had an interest in the chocolate muffin. Yahaba couldn’t fuss over it too badly, distracted with Matsukawa’s weight, Hanamaki’s fingers tracing the gentle contours of his face. If only it had lasted longer.

“Matsukawa, Hanamaki, please stop torturing the second year!” Iwaizumi paused his friendly little wrestling match, Oikawa pinned under him, to scold the chaotic power couple of Aobajousai.

“I don’t feel like cooking,” Yahaba flipped his golden hair, eyes glittery like sunlight through honey as he gazed around. He and Kyoutani were perambulating the park, cherry blossoms in bloom about them. Kyoutani had their big ole bundle of joy on a leash, giving it a tug whenever the German Shepard would wander too far.

“Why is that Princess?” Kyoutani sighed. He’d never tell anyone that he appreciated Yahaba’s snobby disposition, that hopping into useless debates with the butterscotch brunette was fun.

“It’s work, and classes were already a hell of a lot of work,” Yahaba huffed, “Which you’d know if you’d ask me how my classes went.” It had been several days since Silver blessings went to the park that Saturday. Yahaba, was of course, still struggling with his touch starvation, but was volumes less frustrated about it at present.

“They’re just classes,” Kyoutani shrugged one shoulder, “besides, you’d tel me if anything were really wrong anyways right?” He turned a fond look to him, all honest eyes, no smile, but his features were soft. It made Yahaba’s heart dance. 

“Of course,” he bobbed his chin, batted his eyelashes. 

“Right, you’re way too much of a prep boy not to complain,” kyoutani snorted. 

“I wonder if you’ll be so **diplomatic** while I’m going down on you,” Yahaba flicked his wrist. 

“Please don’t say such things in public,” Kyoutani focused on their dog, cheeks growing a shade darker. They hadn’t even made plans to do that, but Yahaba had a habit of throwing random phrases out into the air just to catch Kyoutani off guard. Yahaba was giggling, bright and open, a hand over his mouth. 

“So, I found that dumb romance movie you wanted to try watching,” kyoutani changed the subject, “I figured we could check it out after you get home if you’re not too tired. Momiji can join us on the couch.” Their dog perked up at his name. This was how kyoutani showed his love. He had never been the biggest fan of romance, but he had watched all of Yahaba’s gushy movies and had even enjoyed a few of them. Yahaba worked at a bar while kyoutani part timed at a pet shop, so their hours differed severely and Yahaba was always getting home late. They were doing well though, well enough to support Yahaba’s higher end clothes and Kyoutani’s love for dogs. Kyoutani had a way with animals and Yahaba had away with people, which raised their income by significant margins, Yahaba with tips and Kyoutani with bonuses. 

“I’d love that,” Yahaba leaned and pecked Kyoutani’s cheek, “You and Momiji better be on the couch with a bundle of snacks when I get home.” The smile hung sunny in his words. 

Kyoutani _was_ waiting for him with Momiji and an abundance of snacks.

Yahaba took a little too long. 

It was an accident. 

The Black Velvet Tavern was not a bad place. It was a nice bar really, something akin to the izakaya bars you’d see in Asakusa. It had music, upbeat but not superbly loud, with low shining opalescent light and a silk black and ruby red color scheme. The food and beverages were quite good and while the precautions taken to keep women and omegas safe could be a little bit tighter, it was better than most. The old Aobajousai members would frequent the velvet tavern for a drink and a good dance, all acquiring discounts because Yahaba worked there. Yahaba was good at what he did too, often charming the customers with his soft looks and easy personality, and driving any individuals with questionable intentions away. To a “Hey, how ya doing,” Yahaba would give a “I’m good. Glad to see such a beautiful customer in the house today.” To a, “How would you like a **real** alpha to mark that pretty neck of yours,” Yahaba would reply with, “Buy a personality and up that single digit bank account of yours to six figures and I think we can make something happen.” With his combination of sweet and savage, he made for a scintillating character, and he was almost never bothered, but tonight, tonight it was different. There was a singl customer that lingered at the counter as the hours passed by, even when midnight hit, he remained. Yahaba blew an exhale. He’d have to deal with him while the other staff handled clean up. 

“Umm Sir? You are aware we’re closing right?” Yahaba propped his elbows on the counter, resting his chin in his hands, expression flat with exhaustion. 

“WhatNow?” the man’s words were slurred as he glanced up at Yahaba. His gaze was sharp, not the glassy one of a drunkard, and yet, his face was flushed as though he had been drinking. 

“It’s time to leave,” Yahaba said, articulating with his hands. 

“Right,” the man shook his head once, “Right, okay. Maybe you can walk me out?” 

“Do you have someone you can call?” Yahaba asked. 

“My house isn’t super far away,” the man got to his feet on wobbling knees, “I can walk.” Yahaba pursed his lips with a light breath. This man, could he really walk home alone? Yahaba wasn’t catching any bad vibes from him either. The man hadn’t been abrasive nor had he tried to hit on Yahaba or anything. He had grabbed a meal and a drink, danced and just enjoyed the atmosphere. Sure he had stayed a little longer than most, but he had only sleepily messed around on his phone. His name was Kouki Matsuoka, Yahaba gathered from a short exchange of niceties he had while serving him his drink, third year in college. 

“I can walk you,” Yahaba said, hesitant. 

“If it’s going to trouble you, don’t,” Kouki sauntered from the bar counter. Yahaba followed after him, hand at the small of his back, making sure he didn’t bump into anything. They stepped into cool spring air, the night black and unforgiving above them, city lights dimmed and few. Kouki slipped from Yahaba’s grip, wobbling in an arbitrary direction, tripping on the curb and near busting his head open.

“For the love of god, let me help you home before you kill yourself,” Yahaba raced to his side and caught him by the shoulders. Kouki slumped, most of his weight falling on Yahaba. Yahaba sighed. 

“Just tell me where to go.”

Nothing happened the short walk to kouki’s house. It was dark and quiet. No one disturbed them either. However Kouki, still leaning on Yahaba, had become heavy of breathing, his warm breaths drifting over Yahaba’s neck as they walked. He held onto Yahaba with one arm, keeping himself balanced. There was absolutely nothing even remotely sensual about their contact and yet, Yahaba craved it, needed it. Hell he just needed touch. Being a touch starved omega was like being in a constant state of heat. You needed the touch so badly it hurt. When he had told Kyoutani he was a little touch starved, the grouchy little second year hadn’t much taken him seriously, muttering something about more like attention starved. Yahaba had been hurt by it, but perhaps if he would’ve more aggressively confronted him about it. Perhaps in that scenario he wouldn’t be so desperate as he was now. 

“You smell really good,” Kouki murmured, “Is that peach?” They had arrived at his front door. He had his own place, a one-story with a charming front garden. 

“You’re an alpha?” Yahaba gasped. 

“Mm mm,” Kouki shook his head, “A beta.” 

“Oh,” Yahaba relaxed. Kouki staggered from Yahaba’s hold, fishing for his keys in his jacket pocket. “Uhh, you wanna come inside for a bit?” he asked, unlocking the front door and twisting the knob. He reached, interlacing his fingers with Yahaba’s, toeing him inside and closing the door behind them. 

“Wait a minute Sir,” Yahaba backed against the door, bracing his hand on the doorknob, ready to turn and run if need be. 

“Huh?’ Kouki kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket on the coat rack. He rolled a set of almond brown eyes. “You uhh, don’t have to do anything you don’t want to but..” he moved close, hands sliding up Yahaba’s flanks. He pressed a kiss to Yahaba’s shoulder. “I’d like you to stay,” he whispered, trailing his tongue over Yahaba’s throat, massaging his hips. Yahaba’s body ached for it, touch, screamed it needed this with shivers and light gasps. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every inch of him went sore, soothed only by the beta nuzzling into his neck.

Yahaba did what omegas were made to do. 

He submitted, muttering an “okay” and stringing his hand in dark chiffon curls. 

He did feel better after participating in Intercourse with Kouki. Kouki was not unkind to him either, contrarily he was very compassionate, very gentle, always asked permission and never overstepped his boundaries, used a condom too. He didn’t make Yahaba stay the rest of the night with him either, which he didn’t. After half an hour of entangled passion. Kouki walked him back to the bar so he could get his car, not quite okay with letting an omega walk home at this hour. Yahaba thanked him before disappearing into his car. His body felt amazing. The daily aches and chills he had to deal with had subsided, replaced by a tingling warmth that eased his muscles. His stomach spun into knots of dread when he checked his phone though. It had been bombarded with text messages.

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 12:00a.m.**  
Yo. You should just about be getting off of work huh?

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 12:17a.m.**   
Running late?

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani..12:28a.m.**  
I’ve got a bath running for your prissy ass so hurry on home.

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 12:36a.m.**  
Getting worried Princess 

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 12:51a.m.**  
Yahaba...?

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 12:52a.m.**  
If you don’t reply, I am seriously gonna come looking for you.

Yahaba checked the time. It was just turning one a.m. He sent a quick text.

**Prep Princess/Yahaba Shigeru.. 1:00a.m.**  
Don’t do that. I’m on my way home.

**Angry Puppy/Kyoutani.. 1:03a.m.**  
I swear to god you better have an explanation for this.

**Prep Princess/ Yahaba Shigeru.. 1:06a.m.**  
Right... we’ll talk when I get back.

The ride home was both too short and too long. Yahaba couldn’t much enjoy the afterglow of Touch, to absorbed in his anxieties. He almost couldn’t navigate the roads, sifting through things he could say to ease Kyoutani. There was no _real_ way to soothe the coming interaction. Kyoutani was an alpha. Alphas were instinctual, reactive, protective, jealous. Yahaba had just about committed a sin, though he hadn’t directly meant to. Guilt tightened his stomach. His hands were trembling as he inserted the key into the doorknob’s lock, pushing the front door open, stepping into their homely one-story. He didn’t hear Momiji’s pattering footsteps, and wondered if he had gone to sleep as he pulled off his ankle boots. He sidled into the living room, heart launching itself into his stomach upon spotting the bundle of snacks left on the couch and the CD case of his romance movie laying on the coffee table. It was dark, the only light resonating from the television. Kyoutani, half leaning on the back of the couch, wasn’t looking at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Yahaba bowed his head, and he was. 

“Did he force himself on you?” Kyoutani rumbled, shifting to look at him. Yahaba gasped. While he knew Kyoutani would smell Kouki’s lingering scent on him, he hadn’t expected that his alpha’s keen little nose would pick up on it quite so quickly. 

“Um, no,” Yahaba mumbled, fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer to occupy his nervous hands. 

“Um.. Huh?” Kyoutani crossed his arms over his chest, “So then, you **chose** to have sex with this guy?” It was a comforting notion to know that Yahaba hadn’t been raped, believe him it was. In fact, the relief was probably what stopped Kyoutani’s scent from spiking the air, but then, that also meant that Yahaba intentionally slept with someone else. Yahaba, his omega, his everything, behaved intimately with a complete stranger. It hurt. Yahaba was getting nervous, his peach fragrance speckling into the air. 

“Listen um,” he put out his hands, searching for a way to articulate this to Kyoutani. “I didn’t mean to, exactly.”

“What the hell does that mean!?” Kyoutani flung his arms akimbo. 

“Well look. He like, needed help walking home and I swear I was just going to see him to his door but he pulled me inside, and then he started touching me. He wasn’t forcing me or anything. Actually he said I could leave if I wanted. But um.. see.. y’know i have this touch starvation thing. My body’s always aching and when he touched me all of it just went away. I wasn’t really thinking. I couldn’t really. I just, did what felt good.”

“You realize you cant use this touch starvation of yours as an excuse for your fickle tendencies right?!’ Kyoutani’s features had hardened, the crimson of fury painting his cheeks. His scent had spiked up into the air, nutmeg, sharp and spicy. And maybe Yahaba deserved that. He _could_ be a little fickle. He was ever loyal to kyoutani of course, but he liked to flirt and after all, his job constituted such things. Maybe he liked seeing Kyoutani jealous. Maybe he liked how steamed the alpha would get, how he’d grab him by the waist and tuck him against his chest. But this was an accident, and hearing an accusation that it was anything else was pissing Yahaba off. 

“It’s not like that!” he raised his voice, his peachy scent swimming up, no match for Kyoutani’s anger though. 

“What is it then?!” Kyoutani demanded. 

“Have you ever thought to consider that maybe I wouldn’t lie about being touch starved?” 

“It’s not a thing, Shigeru.” 

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” Yahaba planted his hands on his hips, “And it very much is, which you’d probably understand if you just payed a little more attention to me!” 

“Why is it always my fault Yahaba?” Kyoutani’s voice softened, the fire in his eyes dying out. He rested back against the couch, fidgeted with the black bracelet on his wrist. He leaned his head back with a sigh. “You go sleep with another guy and somehow it’s my fault?” That had the guilt coiling back into Yahaba’s stomach. Something about seeing his alpha in distress, in pain, pain that he caused, made Yahaba’s heart suffer in a greater way than what his touch starvation inflicted upon his body. He looked at his shoes, at the TV, anywhere but Kyoutani’s pensive, liquid amber eyes. After a moment he approached, landing a delicate hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I do love you y’know?”

“Really?” Kyoutani huffed. 

“Mhm,” Yahaba leaned a little closer, not quite flirting, but there was certainly intimacy in the motion. “Can I do something to make you feel better?” he wanted to, showing just that in the way he tilted his head, baring his neck. 

“Let me erase that guy’s scent,” Kyoutani growled, hands catching on Yahaba’s waist, pulling his omega up against him. He was radiating with anger, and well, none could blame him.

“That’s fine,” Yahaba nodded.

Kyoutani pounced. The pair collapsed to the carpeted floor, falling into a kiss. Yahaba braced his hands on Kyoutani’s back, growing ever hotter no matter how many of his clothes were shed. 

Yahaba woke to a sun much too bright, scattering white sunlight through the windows, bleeding through the blinds. His hips and thighs hurt so much, consumed in a very prominent ache. He roused with a groan, sitting and yowling at the ripping pain that followed his motion. He dragged his hand down his bare thighs, feeling out the bite marks and bruises that peppered his skin. There were a multitude more over his neck, his back. Kyoutani was just millimeters away from giving him a mating mark. Yahaba would have to commend him for his self-restraint. Last night was ridiculous in the sense of being pleasurable and impossible. He couldn’t remember just how many rounds he and Kyoutani had went, only that they had done it a lot. He peaked down at the rumpled sheets, noticing that kyoutani wasn’t bundled in them with him. He raised his nose, sniffing. Kyoutani wasn’t in the house. He reached for his phone to call him, but a knock at the door interrupted his motions with a start. He exhaled, sliding from bed. Doing his best to ignore the complaints of his body, he hobbled into the bathroom. He grabbed a fluffy robe he had hanging on the towel rack and dabbed his face with a hot cloth. Then, with the robe wrapped around him and his complexion a little less dry and sleepy, he went to the door. He swung the front door open, catching a breeze of morning spring air, laden in cherry blossoms and fresh water. God did Yahaba love spring. The air ruffled his robes, his disheveled butterscotch hair, and he flushed in the presence of Oikawa standing beyond his threshold. 

“Hey Oikawa,” he said, a touch befuddled, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Hey Yahaba,” Oikawa waltzed inside, pulling the door shut behind him. He lifted his chin, inhaling the scent of the desire that still remained from before. “Wow you guys really did have a time.”

“Umm, what?” Yahaba followed Oikawa’s gracious movements. 

“Iwa,” Oikawa dropped the bags he was holding on the couch. Momiji, with his sleeping residence disturbed, raised his chin from his paws. Oikawa pat the dog’s head and continued, “Kyoutani texted Iwa this morning and said that he wanted to talk to him about his and your relationship troubles. Said you guys kinda blew up at each other and then had sex and he’s not really sure what to do. So he and Iwa are going out to brunch together. And well, I figured my baby Yahaba must be feeling a little shaken too, so I came to take care of you.” 

“Oh, wait brunch?”

“Yeah, it’s almost noon,” Oikawa flaunted his wrist as though he were wearing a watch. 

“What’s all that you got there?” Yahaba aimed a finger at the bags Oikawa abandoned on the couch. 

“Oh, not much. Just a couple things I bought to take care of you. A few bath salts, and a bath bomb. Um, there are a few extra blankets in there, this adorable little poncho i forgot I had aaaaaaaaand ..I got some stuff to cook too.”

“Oh,” Yahaba once more grew a shade warmer. 

“Mhm,” Oikawa nodded, “Since the center of your problem lies in touch starvation, I figured we could go get some full body massages or something. Okay so Maki knows Hinata cause they both work at the same cafe, and Hinata knows this guy in Tokyo called Kenma who’s pack leader is Kuroo who’s besties with another pack leader named Bokuto who’s mate is a gama named Akaashi. Anyways, Akaashi does massages and he always uses this cream made especially for omega skin. I think they only make that stuff in Europe and I bet it is not cheep online. But, Akaashi’s really good at it. Sometimes Iwa’ll take me down there when I’m feeling stressed out. I thought it might be fun if we go together. Yeah it’s kind of out of the way, but it won’t be a problem. We could even get some jewelry from Ginza while we’re at it..” Oikawa’s movements became more animated as he rambled, voice bright with excitement, that hypnotizing coconut scent blooming into the air. 

“Okay,” Yahaba chirped. So he and Oikawa were ditching school for a turn-around trip to Tokyo. Friday was shaping up to be pretty good. 

“Could we also go visit the clinic Ennoshita works at before we go?” Yahaba asked, “I’d like to see if maybe he can explain my touch starvation in a more technical way so Kyoutani will believe me.”

“Sure thing Shortcake,” oikawa tugged Yahaba into a hug. Yahaba nuzzled into his chest, enraptured by the feeling. 

Kyoutani didn’t often come to other’s for help, but this was an issue he couldn’t legitimately deal with on his own. The pancake shop, in all its quiet serenity, with warm browns and slight reds painting the walls and floors, piano jazz humming in the background, sunlight challenged by stain glass windows, the smell of coffee and syrup wafting into the air, made him feel safe, sanctified. So, he waited for Iwaizumi’s response, poking at his eggs. He had spilled his story in the time it took him to tear through two unsuspecting hottokeki. 

“Y’know?” Iwaizumi propped his elbow on the table and cozied his chin in his hand, “Omegas make no sense.”

Kyoutani stifled a laugh, “This is true.’ He drawled it out, trying to get Iwaizumi to elaborate. 

“Sometimes I just literally do not understand Tooru and all the weird things that happen to him,” Iwaizumi said, “I don’t understand why he loves shiny and soft things. I don’t know why he can’t go a day with out cuddling. I don’t know why **I’m** the only thing he wants while in heat. I don’t know why he insists on taking on an alpha’s responsibility of being pack leader and then is shocked by how stressful it is later. When you compare any secondary gender to a human, we seem pretty weird and convoluted.” Kyoutani nodded along. Any secondary could relate to feeling awkward, ostracized when they present and the many years afterword. Imagine growing up normal and then learning you had a uterus, or a knotting cock, and a universe of complex animalistic instincts and proclivities. Kyoutani would never forget the dread that overtook him when he had his first rut, when what he knew to be his friends, his family, his world, began to tug away. Where would he be without the Silver Blessings pack?

“But when it comes to omegas, it seems there’s too much to know and simultaneously not enough,’ Iwaizumi said, snapping Kyoutani from his musing. Kyoutani provided another agreeing nod.

“But, none of that matters,” Iwaizumi said, “All I know is that if Tooru’s hurt, I hurt too. I love him, and I’ll accommodate for his needs, even if i don’t totally understand them, even if they aren’t logical. Fuck the complicated stuff. I just want him happy.” Kyoutani parted his lips. Something uncurled in his chest, easing his breaths, washing warmth over his figure, pushing away the weight that once burdened his body, his mind. 

“Did that help?” Iwaizumi took a swig of his tea, “Sorry. I’m not all that good at giving advice.” It was odd to see him so bashful, but he had indeed ducked his head, tender green eyes peering beneath a fan of dark lashes. 

“Yeah uhh, it did,” Kyoutani mumbled, “Thanks.” 

“No problem Dude,” Iwaizumi leaned over the table, cupped Kyoutani’s neck and kissed him, gently, then flopped back in the booth, stabbing his fork into his soufflé pancakes. Kyoutani sat stunned, thoughts buzzing to a halt and body tingling all over, but, a kiss from an alpha as powerful as Iwaizumi would do that to you.

“How **is** your touch starvation by the way?” Ennoshita interjected Oikawa and Yahaba’s retelling of the weeks prior. He glided across the tiled floor, white coat twirling about as he passed Yahaba a couple of pain killers. “For your soreness,” he added under his breath. He meant in reference to Yahaba’s touch starvation induced soreness, unaware of last night’s escapade. Oikawa was settled with one leg laced over the other in the rolly chair. Yahaba was perched on the examination table. He felt considerably less trash after a long bath and a sweet breakfast. 

“Uhh yeah, about that,” Yahaba folded his hands in his lap, “Could you maybe explain to me how touch starvation works? My boyfriend’s having a lot of trouble understanding.” 

“Well sure, it’s like this,” Ennoshita grinned at him, “Think of it like heat. When you’re in heat, your body sends out distress signals such as cramps and vomiting that say, ‘It’s not safe for me to be alone right now.’ These signals die when you come into contact with another person. Once you’re touched, you’re body knows you’re near someone and starts to calm down. All secondary genders produce pheromones to calm those distress signals in your body but alphas are very abundant in them. It’s why omegas feel safest in heat with their alphas. Thing is though, your body needs that contact, even outside of heat. It can handle itself better when heat’s over and done with, but it still needs that reassurance. As time passes, without experiencing those chemicals from other secondaries assuring your body that you’re safe, it will start to panic again. The aches and sensitivity are your body saying, ‘I don’t think your safe.’ Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” Yahaba bobbed his chin in a nod, his spirits rising, his peachy perfume delighting the area. Now he had something to explain his behavior to Kyoutani. 

“Sure thing,” Ennoshita brushed the back of his palm over Yahaba’s cheek and kissed his ear. 

Night was draping its cloak over the city by the time kyoutani and Yahaba reunited. Kyoutani made it home first, despite he too had indulged in activities with Iwaizumi. He felt good, light as he waited on the couch for Yahaba. He wouldn’t soon forget the companionable therapy he experienced with his vice pack leader. He heard voices beyond the front door, no doubt Oikawa dropping off Yahaba, then Yahaba was dancing over the threshold, a plume of his peach fragrance around him, shutting the door and leaving the cool spring night behind him. 

“Hey there Princess,” Kyoutani waved his hand in lazy greeting. 

“Hi Puppy,” Yahaba discarded his shopping bags on the glass coffee table and lounged beside him on the couch. “Look, Ennoshita made me give you this,” there was a chuckle in his words as he passed Kyoutani a stack of papers. Kyoutani held the papers in his hands, scrutinizing the first page with quizzical, honey hued eyes. It was a printed article on omega type touch starvation. Kyoutani chortled and slid the papers onto the coffee table. “You didn’t have to do that,” he turned his body to face Yahaba. 

“Oh yeah?” Yahaba raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m grateful for it,” Kyoutani tipped one shoulder, “But, even if I didn’t have it. I’d stop fussing over it.” 

“Why the change of heart?” Yahaba asked, a teasing little smirk curving up his full lips. 

“I love you. That’s all,” Kyoutani wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He wasn’t quite so cuddly, but he could make the adjustment for Yahaba. 

“I love you too,” Yahaba curled into Kyoutani’s lap, burying his head into his shoulder. Kyoutani had chosen to hold him. It felt good.

One month later, Yahaba excused himself from the dining table of their at home dinner date, going to the powder room and vomiting into the toilet. He frowned at his reflection in the mirror, contemplative, bemused. It wasn’t as though he had been feeling particularly bad the past few days. On contraire the aches and pains of his touch starvation were fading with every passing day, and it felt pretty good. As he was the one whom cooked, it couldn’t be what he ate that had sickened him so. He dampened a cloth under warm sink water and dabbed his face with it. The nausea persisted. With his head spinning, he doubled over, spilling the contents of his stomach into the toilet twice more. It mitigated his discomfort a little bit, but he still felt unnatural, gross as he eyed his reflection in the mirror. What was wrong with him? 

“Hey Marshmallow,” Kyoutani sauntered into the bathroom, “You’re in distress. What’s the matter?” Yahaba pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he really in distress? He swore his scent didn’t much change. He had only vomited after all. Nothing to get all distraught over. 

“I’m fine though,” he said, “I felt a little sick, but I’m okay I think.” 

“Do you still wanna eat?” Kyoutani asked. No, his appetite had been completely soiled, but just because he didn’t feel like eating, didn’t mean he shouldn’t. Kyoutani had been good to him as well. He deserved, at the very least, not to have their date ruined. So, Yahaba disregarded it. However, strange incidents such as that frequented in more volume as the days rolled by. Yahaba’s new and heavy fatigue for example. 

“You need to get up,” kyoutani shook Yahaba by his shoulder, rustling the sheets. Yahaba groaned, turned his face into his pillow. He was so hot, so entirely groggy. He didn’t have the mental capacity to function, and there was a weight to his muscles that dissuaded his body from moving. 

“You can’t keep sleeping through your alarm like this,” Kyoutani yanked away his blankets, “Jesus Christ Yahaba, are you all right? I don’t usually have to wake you up everyday.”

“I’m fine,” Yahaba mumbled, though he wanted so desperately to return to sleep. 

A few more examples? Yahaba had consumed more water than usual-he hated water- followed by urination. His chest was exquisitely tender. Kyoutani seemed especially snuggly. He had a propensity for holding Yahaba close while they were in public, and he absolutely struggled to leave him alone in class. Other alphas would look at Yahaba weird, other omegas were attracted to him, and it’s not like the vomiting had stopped. Yahaba grew suspect of his condition with every worsening symptom, but refused to confront his deductions, that is until the revelation that his heat had yet to come crashed over him. And so Yahaba did it. He slipped away to the pharmacy and procured himself a pregnancy test, concealing himself to the corner of he and Kyoutani’s master bathroom and checking.

**Positive**

“Great,” Yahaba breathed out, losing the strength in his knees. He slid down the nearest wall, wrapping his arms about his tucked up knees and burying his face within them. There was his inner omega that cooed, delighted in the prospect. 

_Yes.._

_A child.._

_I have a baby.._

_I’m finally gonna be a mom.._

The rational part of him, the terrified part of him, spoke so much louder. 

_Why..?_

_Why now..?_

_Why to me..?_

_How did it happen..?_

_What did I do..?_

_What am I gonna do ..?_

_I’m not ready!_

_Kyoutani!_

_What’ll he think..?_

_**We’re** not ready! _

_And the pack .. what will the pack do ..?_

His shoulders rattled. The tears were falling in no time at all.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been crying, but his cheeks were sticky, eyes puffing and red, eyelashes moist, nose stinging and chest aching by the time he smelled something. It was terribly warm, spicy, a floral hint here and there. It eased him a little. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced up, gasping as Kyoutani panned into view. Yahaba burst into tears once more.

“Shhh, hey.. stop that,” Kyoutani knelt, pulled him into his arms and pat his head, expelling more of his scent.

“But I, I’m...” Yahaba hiccuped. He felt like his tongue was made of cotton, unable to force the words out.

“I know,” Kyoutani caressed his back and stole a glance at the capped test on the counter, “It’s my fault.”

“I shouldn’t have pissed you off.”

“It’s not like you did on purpose.”

“I really should’ve thought about you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to if I were more attentive, and alpha instincts or not I could’ve used a condom.”

“I could’ve reminded you.”

“Damn Yahaba. How are you feisty even when I’m trying to comfort you?”

Yahaba choked out a laugh, sniffling and leaning his head on Kyoutani’s shoulder. “We really fucked up huh?”

“Oh yeah, we are an absolute trash can couple,” Kyoutani squeezed him, “But It’s you so I don’t mind.”

Next step was telling the pack, which was far easier than they thought it’d be. Oikawa was having another one of his sleepovers, and Kyoutani and Yahaba’s secret spilled out after dinner, as Hanamaki tried to figure out the remote and Iwaizumi laid out cushions about the living room carpet. It was mainly on account that Yahaba’s scent had been unreasonably heavy since the start of his pregnancy, keeping Kyoutani pinned to his hip. Iwaizumi picked up on it first, tilting his head as his nose quivered. Yahaba bloomed crimson as Iwaizumi nosed up his neck, ignoring the protesting snarls Kyoutani gave beside him. Omegas flocked to their kind when pregnant, and Oikawa was first to drag Yahaba into an embrace while Matsukawa and even Kunimi flanked them curiously. Kyoutani’s inner alpha was screaming at him.

_My omega’s pregnant._

_There are too many people._

_They’re a threat._

And it was only his guilt for what happened last time that pushed it down.

“Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing,” Oikawa tossed his donut curls, the truth that Yahaba was pregnant having been exposed, hanging in the air for everyone to ogle at. Yahaba had pressed against Kyoutani’s flank in preparation for the landslide of anger and frustration he was sure would topple over him. “Excuse me?” he blinked a set of butterscotch eyes rapidly. Kyoutani equated in shock.

“I’m a pack leader,” Oikawa thrusted his hand to his chest, “And I hope to mother Iwa’s pups one day.” Ignoring Iwaizumi’s charming blush, he continued, “Do you really think I’m going to complain about pups?” He angled his head and placed his hands on his hips when Yahaba didn’t answer, “Well?” 

“Um, well, uhh,” both thinking the question rhetorical, Kyoutani and Yahaba stammered for an answer. 

“My fellows who have been with me since Aobajousai,” Oikawa spread his arms in a wide circling gesture, “This pack is a family, you got that? That’s what packs are. We treat each other well. We take care of and love each other. You have a pup? I’ll treat them like my own. If you have a problem, I’ll treat it like my own. Planned or not, your pup is now apart of our family, and no one is going to complain about a family member.”

“But uh, Oikawa, what do we do?” Yahaba asked, out of breath, utterly bewildered by Oikawa’s reaction. 

“Well, first we’ll get you to the doctor,” Oikawa hummed, “Make sure everything’s okay and make sure we get you a work and school excusal on the grounds of maternity leave. That way when Baby’s born, you’ll have some time to adjust with them. Then all you really need to do is take care of yourself. And you’re an omega. Parenting is nature to you. This won’t be as hard as you think.” 

“But-“ 

“If you’re worried about expenses, each and everyone of us will help pay for anything you need,” Iwaizumi cut him off, the other members of their pack chorusing in agreement. 

“But-“ 

“If you’re afraid you won’t have time for the baby, Hanamaki and I never have a whole lot to do,” Matsukawa said, “You can drop him or her off with us whenever you need.” 

“Matsun’s been wanting pups forever so he’ll just love this,” Hanamaki snorted, “And if things get really tough you can always take online classes.”

“But-“

“Kindaichi and I can help also,” Kunimi said, a touch ginger.

“But-“ Kyoutani this time. 

“If you’re gonna say somethin about how you can’t let us do this, don’t,” iwaizumi ordered, “We’re happy to.’ 

“Well said Iwa,” Oikawa nodded along. Kyoutani and Yahaba exchanged a look. That was that, they supposed. 

“Spring’s been crazy,” Yahaba leaned on Kyoutani’s shoulder. The pair were standing on the back patio as Iwaizumi and Oikawa prepared dessert. Everyone had been left to their own devices. Yahaba and Kyoutani had opted to go outside and get some air. Night hung gentle and welcoming above them, a cloudless sky, a timid breeze, sweet with blossoms. 

“Oh hell yeah,” kyoutani tossed his head to the side, one corner of his mouth lifting. 

“We’ll be okay though, won’t we?” Yahaba moved in front of him, spreading his fingers over his chest. 

“I’ll make sure of that,” a full smile this time. Yahaba returned the grin, leaning in for a kiss. It was tender, the chirp of crickets and the whispering air behind them, all white noise as Yahaba’s body warmed, as his lips moved in slow, passionate rhythms against Kyoutani’s. Kyoutani wrapped his arms around him and guided him close, every inch of him pressed against every dainty inch of Yahaba, his very soft, very sassy, very shallow, very sweet mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love everyone! I really appreciate the support! :)  
> Take care now <3


	4. IwaOi: My Heart Beats in His Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Headcanon: Oikawa has as many insecurities as there are stars in the sky. One of the biggest is his role as an omega pack leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! How are my beauties doing today?  
>  **Warning:** There’s plenty of violence, not in a graphic format but violence nonetheless, of both the physical and emotional type I should think. Self harm, though not quite what I’m sure you’re thinking. It’s unconventional and subdued, but I still think a warning is necessary. Finally, look out for antediluvian pack traditions.  
> And with that, enjoy! :)

In the advancement toward equality for secondary genders, upscale countries in Europe like France, Spain, and Italy, were likely doing the best at providing human rights to those born to secondary function. America was making a degrading, lukewarm attempt at accepting secondaries as equals, and Japan was somewhere between the two extremes. There were a few facilities tailored for secondary care sprinkled around Japan, the bigger establishments, such as the New Blossoms Foundation for Traumatized omegas, were found exclusively in well populated cities like Tokyo and Osaka, but it’d still take a hell of a lot of persistence, good social connections, and a steady support system for an omega to successfully charge an alpha with rape. Alphas weren’t treated much better. They were almost always suspect of crimes and general aggression toward regular persons. Betas weren’t out of the clear either. They were viewed as weird, codependent and needy, an accident since regular people didn’t quite understand their purpose. Of course, not all humans were so discriminatory, but those that did openly support secondaries were a part of the minority. Quickit Help was one of those few, valued industries that catered to secondary genders only. Its chief service was delivery. It delivered items such as heating blankets, suppressants, gender books, that expensive omega massage oil no one could afford, and things of the like to their customers’ doorstep. It also offered in office counseling to those with questions or in need of guidance. Iwaizumi worked for Quickit Help as a delivery boy. On days like this, when his rounds didn’t conflict with Oikawa’s tutoring job, he’d take his partner with him. The pair would cruise through the neighborhoods while they spoke over the music thumping in Iwaizumi’s car radio. The sun was obnoxious this summer, and it had Oikawa lounging half his weight on the fully open window, a set of sunglasses resting on his head as he judged the front yards they drove by.

“It’s hot,” he yawned, using his free hand to shake out the wrinkles in his polo.

“You organized for all of us to go to the pool today right? Be patient,” Iwaizumi reached, interlacing his fingers with Oikawa’s over the console.He glanced over at Oikawa. The cinnamon brunette had his head tipped back, exposing the swan’s curve of his white neck. The bareness of it, that pure white skin irritated Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was the most powerful alpha in Silver Blessings, and perhaps in Miyagi too, discounting Ushiwaka. His instincts were strong, sometimes too strong. He and Oikawa had been together since their first year of high school, and had known each other since infancy. The fact that they had yet to mate was really wigging out Iwaizumi. Oikawa hadn’t wanted to rush into things. Receiving a mating mark was a terrifying commitment, and he wanted to take his time getting settled into his pack, adjusting to being leader. Iwaizumi understood that, but he felt now, he felt now or at least in the near future was a fine time to mark up Oikawa’s neck, to claim him as his own. His inner alpha ached for it. 

_Mine._

_Mine._

_Mine._

That one word echoed in his head, courtesy of his instincts, everytime he looked at Oikawa. It was, admittedly, difficult to deal with. Iwaizumi wasn’t often a shy character, either, but marking was like marriage without the elaborate tradition and ceremony. As much as he wanted it, Iwaizumi couldn’t quite push past the knots that would twirl his stomach at the thought of asking. He couldn’t choke his words out over the lump that would form in his throat. 

“Is Iwa okay?” Oikawa straightened from his reclined position, moving his face only inches away from Iwaizumi’s. “You seem awful lost in thought, which is crazy because you really don’t think very much.”

“Could you find it within yourself to be less annoying?” Iwaizumi pinched and stretched out Oikawa’s cheek, prompting him to squawk and recoil. 

“Aw geez, I’m just making sure you’re all right,” Oikawa whined as he rubbed at his reddening skin, though a soft smile was dancing over his plush lips. He knew he deserved that one. If Iwaizumi was feeling good enough to inflict mild, consensual pain upon him, then it was safe to say he wasn’t feeling too badly. 

“Worry about yourself,” Iwaizumi snorted, not the most adequate response-so he wasn’t fantastic with retorts- as he pulled to a parallel stop before a modest house on the corner. Letting his car hover in neutral, he hopped from the driver’s seat and circled back around to retrieve the package he was to deliver from his trunk. 

“Kageyama really doesn’t have much of a green thumb does he?” Oikawa got from the car as well, training his butter brown eyes over Hinata and Kageyama’s baron front yard. 

“Yeah uh, I think he just needs to be introduced to a watering hose,” Iwaizumi came up beside him, one hand fisted on his hip with the package tucked under his other arm. The pair shared a grin as they strolled the concrete walkway up to Kageyama’s house. 

“I don’t really have the time for gardening,” Kageyama huffed, stepping from beneath the shade of his porch to meet them. They had seen him, of course, as soon as they driven up to his house. He and Hinata were sitting on the porch, half cloaked in shadow as they ate popsicles and soaked up what they could of the occasional summer breeze. Oikawa hadn’t thought Kageyama would here him though. It’s not as though he were being particularly loud. Kageyama’s alpha ears were only getting sharper.

“Good afternoon Tobio,” Oikawa broke into a bright grin and flourished a hand through his donut curls. 

“Great King!” Hinata sprung to his feet, bouncing to Kageyama’s side. “You don’t usually come with Mr. iwaizumi do you? Is something going on?”

“Not at all,” Oikawa dipped his hand, patting down Hinata’s orange swathes of hair. Their relationship was amiable, less shaky than what Oikawa and Kageyama’s was. Oikawa didn’t _like_ the Karasuno pack in any volume, but there leader was Daichi, and he was scarier than the concept of being locked in a closet with Shiratorizawa. So, to prevent dispute, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were as kind as their confrontational personalities allowed them to be. 

“So, did you guys here that there’s another pack in Miyagi?” Hinata asked, sparking conversation, saving the group of four from uncomfortable silence. He shifted from foot to foot, grin never leaving his face. 

“No, actually,”Iwaizumi said. 

“I thought ole gossip rags over there would’ve been the first to find out,” Kageyama deadpanned, rolling a set of sapphire eyes over to Oikawa. 

“Hmph, you try being an omega pack leader, taking summer school, being on a college volleyball team, tutoring, hosting a beauty vlog, **and** trying to keep up with Miyagi news,” Oikawa folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head upward, “Plus, one of my babes is three months pregnant.” 

“Ooo, Yahaba right?” Hinata jumped and raised his hand, not unlike an overzealous elementary schooler. 

“How’d you know that?” Oikawa asked, maybe a touch too aggressive as his eyes narrowed, his mother hen panic kicking in. Hinata shrank back.

“No need to get all defensive,” Hinata raised his hands in placation, leaning back into the palm Kageyama placed against his head. “I just know because Nishinoya works at the same bar he does.” 

“And is a chatter box,” Kageyama grumbled, massaging his fingers over Hinata’s scalp. “Tanaka works there too, and he’s keeping an eye on Yahaba for you. Says he doesn’t like that omegas can’t take maternity leave until the baby is born, and is gonna look after Yahaba as long as he’s working at the Black Velvet Tavern.”

“And Nishinoya’s supporting him too,” Hinata added, “He always cuddles him and makes sure he’s comfortable.”

“How very kind of them,” Oikawa sniffed, “Please tell them thank you for me.” 

“And for me too,” Iwaizumi passed Kageyama his package, far more sincere than Oikawa. Kageyama nodded once, and Hinata waved them off as Oikawa and Iwaizumi turned on their heels and headed back toward Iwaizumi’s car. 

“Hey Oikawa,” Kageyama called. 

“Hmmm?” Oikawa glanced over his shoulder at him. 

“Be careful of that new pack,” Kageyama said, “They are a fairly aggressive group of secondaries. They overwhelmed Yamaguchi with commands at the gas station just for the hell of it. With no beta and a pregnant omega, your pack is especially vulnerable.”  


A silence passed between them, heavy with the weight Kageyama just dropped. With the amount of mistreatment secondaries had to put up with, one would think they’d try to be kind to one another, but senseless animosity between packs was unfortunately, no rare thing. 

“Y’know Tobio, you always sound aggravated no matter what comes out of your mouth, you should really fix that,” Oikawa gave a dramatic wave, tones light and taunting as he continued his walk to Iwaizumi’s car. A low rumble resonated from Kageyama’s chest. 

“You are such a piece of crap, y’know?” Iwaizumi trailed after his uppity little mate, though he wasn’t about to say thank you to Kageyama either. 

“That’s so sweet of you Iwa,” Oikawa placed his hand over his heart in mock flattery before disappearing into the passenger seat. 

Kageyama’s warning became relevant far sooner than Oikawa could’ve ever anticipated. 

The apartment complex Kunimi and Kindaichi took residence in did have a pool as one of its functioning amenities, and so Oikawa had opened up his calendar for some pack love and cool down time later that afternoon, at the afore mentioned apartment complex. It really was a hot day. A cloudless clear sky extended above, brimmed with scorching white sun rays. Oikawa was more than relieved to sink into the pool, submerged up to his neck in cool, chlorine water, the sun not so daunting now as it beamed above them. There were a couple other tenants outside of his pack taking advantage of the apartment pool to escape the beating summer heat, but for the majority, Aobajousai was left to their own devices. Iwaizumi was actually swimming around, muscles flexing in a front crawl as he raced Matsukawa in laps around the pool. Oikawa was floating on his back, confabulating with Hanamaki, whom was reciprocating his motion. Yahaba was sitting at the edge of the pool, a towel over his shoulders, wearing a cottony pink, baggy T-shirt, dangling his feet in the water. In history, omegas wouldn’t venture from their nests for any reason when pregnant, and well, considering the stress and dangers, it made sense. In modern days however, such a thing was unrealistic if not impossible. Kyoutani was settled right beside Yahaba, refereeing the race between Matsukawa and iwaizumi. Kunimi wasn’t anywhere near the pool, splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, flushed to his chest with red from Kindaichi cuddling up to him. He was never one for PDA. 

“So, how are summer classes going?” Hanamaki asked, hands folded on his stomach as he let the water carry him. Oikawa took summer classes to lesson the time he’d have to spend in university, giving him more time for volleyball and his pack. Hanamaki could never. He could hardly keep up with his own classes, and it wasn’t like hospitality was a particularly grueling major. 

“Pretty good I think,” Oikawa said, voice muffled from their positions in the water, “How is you and Matsun’s relationship? Still fucking each other every few hours?” 

“Shut your mouth Oikawa,” Hanamaki stretched out one arm to nudge him, “I think it’s better than only having sex every once in a blue moon.”

“Me and Iwa have lots of beautiful, fulfilling sex thank you,” Oikawa retorted. 

“Sure, of course. Whatever you say.”

“Is there anything you wanted to do this summer?”

“Maybe if we could go to Hiroshima? I really wanna try momiji manju. Plus there’s all the history if you care about that stuff.” 

“Hmmm, we could probably arrange that. Maybe in August? Before school starts up for you?” 

“Hey man, if you can make it happen, make it happen. But don’t do anything that might hinder your school or volleyball or anything. We all know how you get when you’re trying to make us happy.” 

“I’m not **that** bad.” 

“Mhm, sure.” 

“You’re sarcasm is really annoying me Maki.’ 

Hanamaki gasped in feigned indignation, “I’ve done no such thing.” The pair burst into light mirth, standing up in the water to give one another a hug. A cheer from Iwaizumi interrupted their snuggly embrace, and they pulled away and glanced in his direction. Iwaizumi fist pumped, having won his race. He stood, drowned up to his chest with water, eyelashes wet and his ebon hair just barely maintaining its shape. He was so cute. Oikawa swam over to give him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek while Hanamaki swam over to Matsukawa to proffer him a consolidating kiss on the cheek. They goofed off a little longer, however, their water play was cut short by the new set of smells that fogged the air. The Silver Blessings alphas raised their noses, along with Oikawa, trying to discern the nature of the foreign scents, trying to see if they were recognizable or unfamiliar, friendly, or assertive. Unfamiliar and assertive were the conclusions they came to. The cloud of scents had snagged the attention of all of Aobajousai. They froze, bodies stiffening up as their gazes fell on the bar entry gates to the pool. There were about ten of them, two more than Aobajousai’s. Iwaizumi could detect five alphas, four omegas, and one beta by scent alone as the knew pack filed past the gate, dropping their swim bags on the tables and chairs circumjacent the rectangular pool. Iwaizumi didn’t much like their size either. The alphas were no shorter than five foot eleven, the omegas all about Kyoutani’s size. Their beta was tall and fit too. Silver Blessings remained passive. Hanamaki and Matsukawa waded in the water. Kunimi and Kindaichi had sat up, interlocking hands and peering at the new pack from an angle as not to appear staring. Kyoutani draped one arm around Yahaba, suffocating him against his flank. Oikawa and iwaizumi had inched closer together, both alert, on edge. Iwaizumi’s muscles were tight, the slightest hints of lavender emanating from his scent glands. 

“So,” the pack leader drawled out his words, “You guys live around here?” It wasn’t until those coffee brown eyes landed on Iwaizumi, that Oikawa realized that _he_ wasn’t the one addressed. This man thought _Iwaizumi_ was the pack leader. 

“Sort of,” Iwaizumi said, “How bout you? Live around here?”

“We all have rooms here,” the lead alpha answered, gesticulating to the apartment building in close distance. “I’m Yosei Okino, and this is my pack, the Red Tips. You guys look awful familiar.” 

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” Iwaizumi replied, “Silver Blessings, and you might recognize us as the Aobajousai representatives from the Miyagi prefectural boys volleyball tournament.”

“All right then. That’s pretty cool,” a stretching, if a bit forced smile, crept across Okino’s lips. The world seemed to freeze after that, giving one second of clarity before it plummeted into madness. Okino was moving, in gradual, deliberate steps around the pool’s perimeter. All eyes were on him, bated, curious, nervous. He passed Oikawa and Iwaizumi, slid by Matsukawa and Hanamaki, then, just as purposefully, stopped beside Yahaba. Yahaba, still perched on the pool’s edge with his feet in the water, head resting on Kyoutani’s shoulder. Okino peered down at him. 

“Back off,” kyoutani growled, a fatal warning, reverberating up from his chest, in his alpha voice. His nutmeg fragrance spiked the air, spicy and hot. His inner alpha was simmering beneath his skin. 

_Get away from my omega!_

_Don’t look at him!_

_Don’t even **think** about touching him!_

Okino did the opposite. 

“You’re a pretty one. I’m sure that pup you’re carrying will turn out beautifully ,” he purred, threading a hand in Yahaba’s butterscotch hair. It took less than a second for Kyoutani to react. His body snapped up and he came down in a rolling pounce on Okino. Okino, expression fixed in a gasp, grunted as he hit the concrete, missing the pool by a hair. Kyoutani and Okino grappled across the pavement in a fit of tangled limbs, biting and scratching at one another. One of okino’s pack members, another alpha, tried to come to his rescue, but Iwaizumi interjected, shoving them by their shoulder blades hard into the pool. Yahaba lost the strength in his legs and back, his mind spinning from the explosion of strong scents and the violence. His little omega senses were being bombarded. He was overwhelmed, a hand clutching his stomach. Oikawa was in a similar state himself, but he had to help Yahaba before he got sick. Yahaba simply could not get sick or overwhelmed, not while carrying a baby. _I can’t let it happen!_ Oikawa’s thoughts were frantic as he swam to Yahaba, heaving himself out of the pool and cradling Yahaba to his chest. He wasn’t a beta. He couldn’t soothe Yahaba the way he needed, so he did his best to distract him, tucking Yahaba’s nose into his neck and cupping his hands over his ears. Oikawa’s heart was hammering, breaths labored as he watched the fight unfold. Even Hanamaki, the pack’s little pacifist, had joined the melee. Kunimi and Matsukawa watched helplessly, both probably sick and overwhelmed as well. The few humans that had been hanging around the pool had startled, some fleeing, but most staying to watch, some with their phones, recording, calling the authorities perhaps. This is what they saw. Animals, animals that definitely needed cages. And they could be caged. Oikawa’s whole pack could be imprisoned for life if they were deemed dangerous. This was a precarious situation. Despite their aggression was directed at other secondaries, they could still be viewed as a threat to society. Oikawa gasped. Yahaba had stopped shivering in his arms. Oikawa looked down at him, an expression of terror flashing onto his features while his heart did a fifty meter drop. Yahaba had fainted. If Kyoutani found out now, Okino would perish. Thankfully, another handful of secondaries came to the rescue. They had spilled from the apartment complex, darting in through the pool gates to stop the fight. Four betas, three girls and a man that Oikawa knew from Shiratorizawa. He forgot his name, but the large build, resting bitch face, and cropped ginger hair were familiar to him. Bounding next to GingerHead was another one from Shiratorizawa, an omega with a raven bowl cut hair style. There were a couple more omegas, and two alphas, one of which, was the number seven from Datekou. They were all residents of the apartment, having seen the tumult from their windows or balconies, all coming to rescue their fellow secondaries, to calm them before the authorities arrived. The omegas flocked to their kind, some huddling by the omegas of the Red Tips, others embracing Kunimi and Matsukawa. Datekou’s number seven worked on splitting up Kyoutani and Okino, pressing his palms to their foreheads. Shiratorizawa bowl cut guy crouched before Oikawa and Yahaba. 

“Is he all right? Does he need a secondary medic?” he asked, emitting a charming, candied scent. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa nodded robotically. 

“Don’t worry, everything’ll be fine,” BowlCut cooed, peppering gentle kisses over Oikawa’s cheeks. Oikawa gave no response, only squeezed Yahaba. The three girl betas took hold of the alphas from the Red Tips, holding them close and scent puffing. Big ole GingerHead wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi and Hanamaki and pulled them to his chest, a low rumble vibrating from his torso and a sweet, cotton scent pluming around him. Slowly, under the soft sound of cooing and purring, under the betas’ warm scents and affection, slowly, Aobajousai and the Red Tips relaxed. 

The next few hours dragged by Oikawa in gradual, colorless slides. He was numb to his surroundings, save for the worry for Yahaba that squeezed his heart and pressed his ribs. His torso was so tight, his mind not quite there. The whole of the old Aobajousai members had opted to visit the clinic, under the guidance of GingerHead and one of the female betas. They issued an examination of the physical and secondary type. After all, the alphas had been injured and battle, and the omegas could be traumatized from the abundant scents, aggression, and drama. Then there was the matter of Yahaba of course. The Red Tips were ushered to a medical care facility as well, though they went to a different one than what Silver Blessings were, and they were escorted by the other two female betas. Oikawa’s head thumped against the window as he road in the backseat of GingerHead’s car. Iwaizumi had his hand in his, circling his thumb over Oikawa’s knuckles. His lavender fragrance was soft and easy in the air. Oikawa registered the motion, appreciated it even, but couldn’t quite get his body or mind to react, to settle. Yahaba was still unconscious in the trunk, Kyoutani at his side, but Oikawa was still worried about him. His distress continued into the blanched lobby of the clinic. His other pack members, which had driven with BowlCut, reconvened with him in the waiting room. He swept his gaze about, assessing the state of his pack mates. Kyoutani sat in a chair, an immobile Yahaba in his lap. Matsukawa and Hanamaki looked the least distraught. Hanamaki had a busted lower lip and a few bruises, but was over all fine. Matsukawa was draped on his shoulder, nose buried in his neck, taking deep inhales of Hanamaki’s coffee scent to keep himself not calm, but grounded. Of the omegas, Matsukawa seemed to have regained the most composure. Kunimi was rather frazzled, though one would only tell after years of observing him. His shoulders twitched every few moments, his breaths not as still as usual, his hand clinging too tightly to Kindaichi. Kindaichi had acquired an unsightly bruise at his temple, and was doing his best to stay strong for Kunimi. GingerHead, female beta, and BowlCut were the only things keeping the pack from falling apart, their presence reassuring as they leaned against the wall, their scents a warm undercurrent in the air. Oikawa shuddered as his gaze shifted to Yahaba. He had failed. He had failed to protect him. Oikawa’s pack had confronted dangerous situations before, but none quite so ludicrous is this, leaving all their omegas overwhelmed and possibly sick, one of them pregnant and unconscious, all his alphas exhausted and wary. He raised his head. Would things have gone differently had Iwaizumi been pack leader? Omega pack leaders were not impossible but they were in fact rare. This was just another one of those times that reminded Oikawa why. Not a week could pass without Oikawa contemplating his roll as pack leader, but a situation of this capacity had him rueing his choices. His chest was so empty and his stomach wouldn’t stop twirling. He couldn’t feel the tiled floor below him. Was he even breathing right now?

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi’s voice, soft, tender, with one hand catching on Oikawa’s wrist.

“Iwa.. I...” Oikawa rasped, “I couldn’t.. I couldn’t help Yahaba. What if.. what if I can’t be what they need me to be?” Iwaizumi parted his lips to answer, but the nurse entered the waiting room, calling for Oikawa and interrupting that idea. 

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa’s shoulder, “You’re our leader for a reason, and that’s that.” 

Oikawa was left wordless as he followed the nurse down the hall.

The diagnosis, thank the heavens, was not a drastic one for either of the members of Silver Blessings. The injuries the alphas sustained could be treated with no severe methods, and the omegas all just had a mild case of scent poisoning that could be treated with rest and soothing agents. Yahaba was the same. He had reacted as strongly as he did on account of the stress brought on by his pregnancy, but he and his baby were otherwise unharmed. 

“Told ya everything would be okay, and that you were a pretty good leader,” Iwaizumi said, blithe and melodic as he swung his jingling key ring from his shirt and made to unlock the front door to he and Oikawa’s home. 

“I suppose so,” Oikawa mumbled, staring off into the distance. 

“Keep worrying about it and I’ll kick your ass.” 

“That doesn’t really help me feel better Iwa,” Oikawa trailed Iwaizumi into the house, pulling the door closed behind him. 

“I’m just saying that you’re being silly,” Iwaizumi tossed a fond look at him over his shoulder, “Yeah alphas are typically meant to lead packs, but that’s just because they have the resources to. You’re at a disadvantage, not completely hopeless. Besides, we all think you’re doing a good job. The pack voted you. Remember that? Way back in high school?”

“You act like high school wasn’t just four years ago,” Oikawa laughed. Iwaizumi’s features brightened in a grin and he kissed his cheek, vanishing down the hall to their bedroom. Oikawa floated after him, a smile of his own overtaking his lips.

Oikawa would’ve thought that the events at the pool would be the last he saw of the Red Tips. To his ultimate chagrin however, it was in fact not. This time, though logic dictated it wasn’t, felt a whole lot worse than the incident at the pool. A few weeks had passed since that day, sending Yahaba into his second trimester. The pack members, the omegas especially, were most eager to take care of him and feel his baby’s kicks. It was a good time to start considering another ultrasound too, as well as extra protection for sweet Yahaba. Oikawa was still reminiscent of yesterday’s escapades spent pestering their pregnant omega on Maki and Matsun’s couch as he packed up his books and binders for the evening. He had hosted a ton of tutoring sessions that day, some extending beyond the usual hour he spent with his struggling students. He scooped his textbooks and binders into a gray cross-body bag he always carried to school, flipping his phone up from the desk to check the time. It was a few minutes past nine p.m. The message from Iwaizumi caught his eye as well. 

**Iwa-Chan/Iwaizumi Hajime.. 8:56p.m.**  
I’m waiting outside the front doors. 

**ShittyKawa/Oikawa Tooru.. 9:03p.m.**  
Am headed out the door now, Shnookums. 

**Iwa-Chan/Iwaizumi Hajime 9:04p.m.**  
Get off my phone with that mess!!!!

Oikawa giggled to himself, stuffing his phone in his pocket and locking up the classroom. The halls were dark from disuse, the deepening silky dark night outside no help. Once finished navigating the school, Oikawa sashayed past the front desk and stepped outside. The night was cool, but it was still, most definitely, a summer night. Oikawa tipped his head to the starless sky and inhaled. As promised, Iwaizumi was standing ready on the pavement walkway. Oikawa lit up at his presence and joined his side. The pair linked hands, exchanging monster and alien conspiracies as they left campus. They encountered Okino in the parking lot. They had tried to go unnoticed as they strolled toward Iwaizumi’s car, but one does not simply miss Oikawa. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Okino sauntered from his own car to intersect their path. Oikawa released a heavy, exasperated sigh, staring down his nose at Okino. “Can I help you?” he swung his hands onto his hips. Iwaizumi gave a glare to match his.

“You’re the folks from Silver Blessings, if I remember correctly,” Okino drawled. Oikawa offered a curt nod. 

“Good,” Okino sleeked his hands down his jacket, “I’d like to issue a challenge, to your pack leader.” His lips quirked into a smirk just as Oikawa’s heart stopped, “At first I thought it was the alpha that lead your pack, but it’s you, isn’t it?” His coffee gaze fell on Oikawa, pinning him in place, weighting his heels to the pavement. He couldn’t much reply, his mind a fixed to the words that Okino said earlier, the ones now echoing over and over in his head like a mantra. _Issue a challenge._ Oikawa’s breaths hitched and he dug his fingers into his palms. As much as time would twist and shape things, there were some things that time would never alter, like secondary tradition. A challenge was a direct request to fight from one pack leader to another, usually with something valuable as a prize. Territories and omegas were the main things fought over. It was criminal to refuse. It was seen as a sign of weakness, and could deem one incapable or afraid, resulting in the removal of rights to one’s pack. Oikawa was at the physical disadvantage of being an omega, a creature made to submit, a creature tailored to be weaker than its natural superior, the alpha. Iwaizumi had gone rigid beside him, a low rumble rolling up from his throat, barely breathing. He wouldn’t be allowed to interfere with the battle. A pressure built behind his sternum. Had he just asked to mate Oikawa, this wouldn’t be a problem. It was a marital right to participate in challenges with your official mate.

“What do you want?” Oikawa asked.

“I’ll take your little pregnant omega, if you don’t mind,” Okino said, and his blasé tone made Oikawa’s skin crawl. To think, he wouldn’t even have to risk trading a person if secondaries were offered the same privileges regular humans were. 

“And what would you like in the unlikely event that I lose?” Okino asked. 

“Each member of your pack, including yourself, is not to bother my pack. You are not to touch, talk to, or even **look** at my pups. You will drop your gazes to them and you will by no circumstance ever growl, snarl at, and certainly not command my pups. You keep your pheromones in check if around them too. Kunimi and Kindaichi live in your apartment complex, and you will apologize for inconveniencing them. Is that understood?”

“Certainly,” Okino nodded once, only slightly put off by Oikawa’s fervency. Iwaizumi backtracked, giving the two space, though they had a whole empty parking lot to brawl, and held his breath. 

The world paused to watch the battle unfold. Oikawa and Okino circled each other, sizing each other up. Oikawa wouldn’t be the first to attack. It wasn’t in an omega’s nature to attack. They responded. Okino indeed moved first, jumping into a pounce on oikawa. Oikawa’s body thudded against the concrete with a yelp, Okino’s weight coming down on him. The rules of a challenge were simple. The winner was determined by whomever tired first, or by whomever couldn’t continue the fight do to pain or injury. Alphas were forbidden to use their commands, and if the challenger were an omega, they weren’t allowed to use their scent to intoxicate. Weapons weren’t allowed, and nor was targeting of scent glands. Oikawa took such shallow breaths, he wasn’t sure he was even getting air into his lungs. Okino was too strong. It took a terrible amount of Oikawa’s strength to shove him off. Okino threw a punch. Oikawa spun into a dodge, swirling his leg into a roundhouse kick to Okino’s ankle.The blow knocked Okino off balance. Oikawa used that opening to push him. Okino fell to the pavement, but was back up within the second, this time throwing his body at Oikawa. The pair collapsed into a fit of rolls and tumbles, clinging to each other, biting, scratching, hair pulling, leaving bloody welts and bruises in their wake. Oikawa yelped, once more underneath Okino, as the latter dug his nails into his flank and tugged down. It didn’t leave the gashes a knife would, but the wound did sting, a few beads of blood speckling Oikawa’s white skin. Okino punched him. It landed, Oikawa grunting as a fresh rivulet of blood streamed from his nose. In a spew of twists and bucks, Oikawa got Okino off of him. He couldn’t let that guy dominate him again. A low whimper reached Oikawa’s ears, and he craned his neck back in the direction of the voice’s origin. He was met with Iwaizumi, still a couple feet away. He was perched on the curb, one hand clutching his chest and the other pressed over his face. His body trembled, lips closed tight to muffle the slight whines that tried to escape. His head was bowed, eyes squeezed shut, knees rattling so badly Oikawa thought they might fall off.

“Iwa!” Oikawa called. What was wrong with him? Iwaizumi looked up at him. His green eyes shimmered with stifled tears, but he tilted his head and gave Oikawa his beautiful lazy grin. “Kick his ass so we can go home,” he mouthed, displaying a thumb’s up. Then it hit Oikawa. Iwaizumi was an alpha, a powerful one at that. He was born to do two things, dominate, and protect. Dominate, and protect. Oikawa meant everything and more to Iwaizumi. The likelihood that he could watch Oikawa struggle without his alpha instincts to help, protect, control overtaking him was low. In which case.. Iwaizumi was repressing his instincts. Repressing one’s scent and desires was one thing, but to repress one’s instincts? The very thing that governed their physical nature ? Oikawa could only imagine the physical strain. No wonder Iwaizumi was in so much agony. He was telling his own body no, refusing to fight, refusing to come to Oikawa’s rescue, refusing to interfere and risk losing the pack from contravention, no matter how badly he wanted, no, needed to. He was hurting himself, and yet, he was still encouraging Oikawa. The thought set fire to Oikawa’s heart, but he couldn’t much dwell on it. If he wanted Iwaizumi’s efforts to mean anything at all, he could not lose. He and Okino leapt into a spate of trading and dodging attacks. All the while, Oikawa observed Okino, looked for a weakness because he’d need it in order to defeat him. He swirled away from a knife-hand-strike from Okino, returning the attack, jabbing his hand into Okino’s chest. Okino staggered back, but as always recovered quick, taking Oikawa by the shoulders and straight throwing him to the ground. Oikawa rolled to his feet, raking his gaze up Okino’s figure and reviewing his movements thus far. He knew quite little about the body. However, Iwaizumi was not only his partner, but an intelligent student devoted to the study of kinesiology and sports science, and through him, Oikawa understood a little bit about the body, not much, but enough. Okino had been very quiet with his left side. He hardly through follow up punches with his left arm. His posture was fine, though Oikawa would say he leaned more to the right. Finally Okino would take pauses to roll his left shoulder.The muscle often got tight there. He had a tender shoulder. Oikawa tossed a look to Iwaizumi, whom had probably ascertained that the first time they saw Okino. Iwaizumi gave him another thumb’s up. Oikawa smiled, fainting left to evade a high punch from Okino that would’ve no doubt nailed him in the head. He sprung up, latching onto Okino’s left shoulder immediately, squeezing, dropping his weight. Okino cried out as he was brought down to the ground, a tearing pain ripping down his arm. Oikawa pinned him, raining punches onto his face. It only took one thrust of his hips for Okino to get Oikawa off. He snagged a fist full of Oikawa’s hair and slammed him down into the concrete. Good god, couldn’t they have fought in a bounce house? Oikawa would’ve fussed over the new scrapes on his cheeks if he wasn’t so dizzy. His head whirled, thoughts disoriented, ears ringing as pain reverberated down his body. He almost didn’t register Okino’s heel booting into his ribs, but the pain was far too blunt and shattering to ignore. Oikawa stumbled to his feet, pushing down earlier’s lunch. Okino’s movements had gotten slower, and Oikawa used that to his advantage. As much as he would’ve liked it to be, it wasn’t a quick battle. Oikawa had to wear him down, sneaking in jabs and kicks where he could, hooking his foot around Okino’s ankle and tripping him, and of course those valuable times he’d slam his elbow into Okino’s shoulder until finally...

“I give..” Okino exhaled through pants, doubled over with his hands on his knees, body heaving.

“It’s customary to bow and apologize,” Oikawa crossed his arms and stared down at him. As snobby as he sounded, his body was screaming. Okino did no such thing. 

“The Red Tips won’t cause anymore trouble for your pack,” he bit, and with that, hobbled toward his abandoned car. He gasped, Iwaizumi catching him by the shirt. Okino blinked, wary. That drew no pity from Iwaizumi. He reared his elbow back and drove his knuckles into Okino’s countenance, once, twice, thrice. Okino was left with a bloody nose and a swollen purple eye. 

“I would’ve liked to beat you myself, but that’ll have to do,” Iwaizumi hissed, and let him go. He joined Oikawa’s side. The pair watched Okino’s vehicle pull from the vacant parking lot, then collapsed to the paved ground. They fell on their backs and spread their arms, chests undulating as they caught their breaths. They were exhausted, both of them, Oikawa from his fight and Iwaizumi from repressing is own instincts. They stared at the inky sky overhead, the breeze whispering between them.

“I’m proud of you,” Iwaizumi spoke, “You handled yourself well. You stood your ground, and took advantage of his weaknesses. You didn’t let the fact that you were an omega make you any less of a match for him. But best of all, you didn’t cry.”

“Shut up Iwa,” an arduous chuckle in Oikawa’s words as he reached over and jostled Iwaizumi’s arm. “You did good though too. Thank you. Will you be okay?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi hummed. Another stretch of silence swept over them. They were content to just be in each other’s company. Iwaizumi then rolled on his side to face Oikawa. “Hey.”

“Yeah?’ Oikawa reciprocated his motions. 

“Would you be interested in a mating mark?” Iwaizumi asked. 

Oikawa gasped. 

Iwaizumi drew a hand up to rub the base of his neck, a rosy flush filtering over his skin, “I mean, can I mark you? I’ve wanted to for a real long time now, but uhh, I’ve been too nervous to really ask. And well, I wanted to do this the right way. I wanted to court you, take you on dates, ask your parents’ permission and buy you nice things. And I’ll still do all of those things, but I’d like to prevent stuff like this from happening again. You did really good back there, but I don’t want you to have to deal with that anymore. If you have my mark, then at the very least I can fight with you.”

“Iwa..” Oikawa breathed, touching his fingers to his lips. He slid them down to his neck, tracing the curve of it, where Iwaizumi’s mark would be. He had wanted it too.

“My parents would say yes,” he murmured, “They love Iwa.”

“And what would you say?”” Iwaizumi whispered, his heart beating a percussion in his ribs. Oikawa dipped his hand into Iwaizumi’s mess of dark hair and pulled him into a kiss. 

“It would be the most divine thing to ever happen to me, besides Iwa himself. Yes. Mark me.”

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi cooed, dropping his head into Oikawa’s neck with relief. “Thank you..... thank you..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me for this story. It was a pleasure. I appreciate any comments and kudos that come my way. I’m moving on to Karasuno’s story now, and am considering a mini series following Iwa-Chan and Oikawa’s marital adventures, so there’s plenty to look forward to.  
> Thanks again, and do take care My Loves <3


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